Heaven for Everyone
by XWingAce
Summary: Some time after Chloe Decker finds out who her partner really is, John Constantine rolls into town and all Hell is about to break loose.
1. Prologue

This story is based on a lot of the meta thoughts I had throughout series 3 of Lucifer. I started this story when it still looked like there wouldn't be a S4. So this is entirely incompatible with any spoilers we've received about that. Loose sequel to In the Light of a Promise but it should be able to stand on its own.

_Huge_ thanks to ariaadagio for her thorough beta of a story that is about three times as long as I usually write. It wouldn't be as good without her.

* * *

Traffic in LA is Hell.

Driving is especially taxing tonight. As if the regular grind of work wasn't enough to make me want to cry, some of the idiots in charge tried to push through their own vision of how things should work. It took the entire staff threatening revolt to get them dismissed. I was almost happy when I could get back to my daily grind after that. Of course, that also means I get to brave the peak-hour congestion at the end of the day. The combination of the sun in my eyes, exhaust fumes and either aggressive or incompetent drivers is its own special version of Hell. Especially since the air conditioner decided to break today.

Somehow, I make it home. As I climb the stairs to my crappy little apartment – hey, at least it has parking even if the elevator works maybe one day in ten – my phone buzzes.  
I don't recognize the number, but I answer it anyway.

~.~

The doors to the morgue loom in front of me. Approaching them feels like walking through molasses. The people around me don't seem to have trouble getting to and from the parking lot to the building. But I need to fight for every step forward, while it feels like my soul is sinking deeper and deeper.

I'm trying to hold on to hope. Maybe the LAPD made a mistake. It could happen. But deep down, I know better. It feels like I've been here before a thousand times. And what I'm dreading is true.  
A female officer approaches me, asks for my name. She's pretty, despite the bulky uniform. She looks a little familiar, like I've seen her before somewhere. I can't place her though. But who she is doesn't matter. This is all about the formal identification I'm about to make.

I don't see anything of the corridors leading to the morgue itself. I only see the table with the body on it. The policewoman says something kind and it sounds like she means it. But then the sheet is pulled back, and that, too, is irrelevant.

I'm looking at the body of my mother. It's not a pretty sight. She's been dead for a few days, the policewoman tells me now. The neighbors called the police because of the smell. She'd died of a stroke, alone and abandoned.  
_I_ abandoned her. Years ago, I was the one who walked out, the one who never came back. And I could have. I could have made time while studying, or taken a day off from my job. Or even just driven by one weekend, one evening. Picked up a phone. Something. I've done nothing. And now there were no more chances. No more opportunities to just walk in, to talk, to make amends. This was the end. I don't know if I'm crying because of her, or because of me.

I find myself outside the morgue again. Did I go through all the motions? I can barely remember. I find my car and get in. As I turn onto the highway, the air conditioning stops working again. I take one hand off the wheel to bash the dashboard.

I've also taken my eyes off the road. So has the guy changing lanes beside me.

Traffic in LA is Hell.


	2. Chapter 1

As crime scenes went, this was a strange one. The beach below the pier in the middle of a sunny Saturday was not where you expected a body to turn up. After the very public shooting of a murderer at the top of this pier several months ago, this might just earn this beach a spot on the Hollywood Mystery tour. This girl lay _exactly_ where Dan had picked Charlotte Richards out of the sand after she and Lucifer had somehow thrown themselves off the pier.

Of course, the body _hadn't_ just turned up. Several witnesses had recounted consistently that the woman had dropped dead with little fuss. The only even slightly odd thing was that she had pushed past several people as she headed straight to… somewhere. More mysterious circumstances that the tour guide could allude to.

Chloe was here to clear up those mysterious circumstances. Ella's initial assessment hadn't turned up a clear cause of death. Dan was canvassing the scene with the uniformed officers, trying to find anyone who could tell more of the story. Maybe the tale involved a hospital, given the gown and the paper patient-info bracelet on the woman's wrist.

Chloe finished her own inspection of the body. She put her sunglasses back on, eyeing the crowds gathering to observe the spectacle. Most of the onlookers were your standard LA revelers in high-fashion, low-coverage clothing. Their phones — every make and model under the sun— all had their cameras aimed at the scene. Of course.

One guy stood out. No phone in evidence, for one thing. Despite the balmy weather, he was observing the goings-on with his hands stuffed into the pockets of a long beige coat. He looked vaguely familiar, with his unshaven stubble and dirty blond hair.

Chloe started moving toward him. He caught her intent and turned away. Dan, bless him, had also spotted the guy and intercepted him from the other side.

He was still trying to get away from Dan when Chloe approached. He had an accent, English but regional, not the cultivated tones she was so used to hearing.

Chloe showed her badge and introduced herself. "We'd like to get your view on the events of this case."

The stranger shook his head. "I haven't got anything to contribute, love."

"Love," right. That wasn't helpful to ingratiate himself. "Still, we'd like to hear your side of the story."

Dan took his cue off her. "And since it looks like you don't want to hang around here, let's do it at the station."

-x-

At the station, the stranger's identity became clear. And it also became clear why he'd looked familiar. The man was John Constantine. He'd been their only suspect in a set of serial butcherings last year and had proven especially elusive. The LAPD had never caught up to him before the case went federal. In the end, the FBI had arrested a previously unsuspected woman on overwhelming evidence, with help from the Star City DA's office.

Strange for Mr. Constantine to have walked into the police station with only some token protest, this time. Although he was being evasive enough with the questioning.

Chloe observed Dan as he handled the first interrogation. Constantine had started off the interrogation by claiming to be a "master of dark magic." At least by the proxy of his business cards. But he hadn't tried to deny that ridiculous claim either, nor explain it as a professional affectation. When asked what he'd been doing at the beach, he claimed to be tracking a ghost. Dan looked like he hadn't had enough coffee for this nonsense.

Under other circumstances, Chloe might have agreed. But….

But in some ways, she was still reeling from her own entrance into the Twilight Zone.

Thinking about the whole thing _here_, in the station, never felt quite real. This was such a… _mundane_ place. Not somewhere you'd expect the Devil to be walking around. And yet here he had been. Her _partner_. He might have been more, at that. They'd been so, so close to something… several times, even. Then Lucifer would do something impulsive and throw the whole relationship into a loop.

Lucifer might not have taken conscious action this time but showing his true self had definitely thrown their relationship into another loop.

The problem wasn't that he had never told her before. Lucifer had been quite insistent about being the Devil. But she'd always taken it as part of his… issues. A delusion, perhaps, but a helpful one. To him, because it let him function in society after a fashion. But also to _her_, because Lucifer's perspective, pain in the ass that he might sometimes be, helped her be a better _her_. He complemented her in ways she could never have imagined she needed, but she was already missing the casual insanity of having him by her side.

Little had she known that the world was crazy, not Lucifer.

He'd warned her off, one last time. He let _her_ make the first move; decide that she wanted this relationship. She _had_ made that move.

And then the phone call had come that Charlotte had been shot. Everything after that had been a rapid succession of surreal events. Her ex-fiance, the _lieutenant_, turning out to be the killer — the legendary Sinnerman! Lucifer knowing about that for months and not telling. That same killer, claiming he still loved her – but not enough that he wouldn't shoot her to get to Lucifer.

To be honest, Chloe wasn't quite sure what had happened next. She'd regained consciousness on a rooftop. Lucifer had expressed his relief at her being safe and then disappeared. She'd found bloody feathers on that rooftop, and she'd later found similar feathers in the gallery where she'd been shot. There had been a smashed rooftop window in the gallery. Taking all the crazy at face value, since that's what she should have been doing all along, left only one conclusion.

_Lucifer had flown her out._

She remembered he'd come to her after someone had stolen his "Angel Wings" early on. She'd laughed about it, then. Well. He must have gotten them back. Not that she'd _seen_ them.

That would have been a nice thing to have seen. Even if it would have been just as shocking.

Instead, she had made her way back to the gallery from the rooftop in time to see Lucifer crouched over the body of Marcus Pierce. She'd heard his voice, seen the sharp lines of his shoulders in his no-longer-so-immaculate jacket. But then he'd turned, and she hadn't seen Lucifer anymore.

She'd seen Satan himself.

_ _The shattering of old illusions had been as much of a shock as the sight of him. As soon as he'd spoken, deep down she'd known Lucifer was still in there, and he hadn't changed. But her perceptions, at that point, had been in turmoil. It was all true. It was all _real_._ _

_ _The existence of Evil, even with a capital E, was an easy concept to a police officer. People were capable of some fucked-up things. But Chloe had been an agnostic at heart, maybe even an atheist. She believed in the things she could see and touch, in what human hands could accomplish. To know beyond a doubt that there were greater powers — beings and events on a scale and with motivations and goals she had no perception of… _that_ was scary._ _

_ __That_ had made her recoil when Lucifer took another step toward her._ _

_ _Her flinch had been enough for Lucifer. He'd stopped, his hand going to his face. His expression had fallen as soon as his hand had touched flesh. "Ah." He'd taken a step back, nodding as he went. "I'd best clean up. Avoid any awkward questions."_ _

_ _He'd gone back to Pierce's body, to the knife lodged in Pierce's sternum. He'd paused. "One question for you then, Detective. Do you want this to be traced to me, or not?"_ _

_ _Chloe had shaken her head. At that, Lucifer had pulled the knife from Pierce's chest. Then he'd picked up most of the feathers around the scene. He'd worked fast, keeping his distance from Chloe._ _

_ _When he'd finished, he had faced her one more time. He had regained the face Chloe was most familiar with. She hadn't seen the transformation happen. "Detective… Chloe." Her name had come out almost as a sigh. "I'm sorry you had to see the truth this way. I would have preferred to show you differently. If…." He'd fallen silent. Chloe hadn't had an answer either. Too many things had still been going through her head. "I will be at Lux," Lucifer had finally said, "should you wish anything from me."_ _

_ _He had left, then, before Dan and Ella could arrive. Nothing…_supernatural_ had been left at the scene. Well, almost nothing supernatural. Chloe had been standing on a few feathers. She had tucked them into her jeans' back pocket. But there had still been Marcus's body to answer for. That and a gaggle of unconscious thugs, some in severe need of medical attention._ _

_ _The subsequent investigation was still ongoing. Internal Affairs had grilled the entire department, Lucifer included, after Marcus Pierce's involvement in the Sinnerman network became entirely too clear. The inquiry had proven to be sufficient distraction from the question of exactly _how_ he'd died. Thank you, Dan._ _

_ _Lucifer had stayed away unless called. And Chloe hadn't felt up to calling him. Unfortunately — or not? — the LAPD dispatchers hadn't got the message and called Lucifer whenever she was assigned a case. _ _

_ _He showed up, either at the crime scene or the precinct, and, when she didn't seem inclined to let him participate in the case, left again or busied himself helping other officers. Ella's lab had been another popular destination whenever Chloe wasn't there._ _

_ _Chloe didn't feel up to letting the dispatchers know they didn't need to call Lucifer. Every time he walked in, looking and acting as normal as he ever did, made it a little easier to _ignore_ the whole crazy Heaven and Earth scenario. His undemanding presence gave her distance in another way._ _

_ _Most importantly, though, by acting as he did, Lucifer was demonstrating one thing to her: he wasn't leaving. He wasn't running away and letting her deal with the shock on her own. Not this time. If she wanted to talk, he'd be there. The silent raised eyebrows every time he walked in were enough testament to that._ _

_ _So far, apart from a few very-basic case-related exchanges, Chloe hadn't felt up to talking to him. Now she might have to. John Constantine was an unknown quantity to her. But not to Lucifer. He'd been the one who had identified Constantine last year. _ _

_ _Lucifer hadn't been at the crime scene. But now, just as Chloe was considering talking to him, there he was. Chloe quashed the hackneyed expression threatening to float up from her subconscious. He walked in through the corridor that housed the interrogation rooms. _ _

_ _"Hey," she greeted him. Not her best opening line ever._ _

_ _"Detective," Lucifer returned the greeting formally. No cheery innuendo now. He looked a little apprehensive. Even though it had been a simple greeting, Chloe had spontaneously said more to him than she'd done since… back then. She had to follow it up with something, though._ _

_ _"Why are you here?" She had a case to worry about — one she needed Lucifer's help on. Yet somehow, _that_ was the question that immediately came to mind once she had resolved to talk to Lucifer. Awesome._ _

_ _The question seemed to confuse Lucifer, too. He frowned. "Because your dispatchers called me, of course." He half-turned as if starting to walk back out. "Should I go and tell them not to bother?"_ _

_ _Chloe shook her head and put out her hand to halt him, but stopped short of touching him. "No… no, that's not what I meant." She took a quick look around for people listening in – something she should have done before. She continued in a whisper. "Why does _the Devil_ come to Earth, to LA? It can't be to be a consultant with the LAPD."_ _

_ _"Why not?" Lucifer looked mildly insulted. "It's my Dad who has the big plans, not me." He sighed, then opened the nearest door and stepped inside. Chloe followed him into the observation room for interrogation room 2 — not the one that currently held John Constantine. As far as privacy went, there were worse places._ _

_ _Lucifer closed the door behind him before he started. "Here, at least, there are people who _want_ what I would like to give. And unlike most of the poor souls in Hell, I don't appreciate unrelenting torture. There wasn't anything keeping me there, so I came for a break. I _stayed_ because…." Lucifer trailed off. "Because it felt like the right thing to do." He shrugged. "That's all. No grand plans for me, Detective."_ _

_ _"You must have wanted _something_."_ _

_ _"What I wanted was _out_." Lucifer turned to face the one-way glass. "Out from under my Dad's _plans_." He sneered at the mention of his Father — yes, capital F — this time. "And out of a literal grind that lost any interest it might have had to me centuries ago."_ _

_ _Centuries? Chloe remembered Lucifer alluding to being immortal, to being _old_, but at that point, of course she hadn't believed it. He didn't look the part — with _either_ of his faces. So it hadn't quite registered yet. But if he really was the Devil, he must be old indeed. _ _

_ _"How old are you, even?"_ _

_ _The question took Lucifer by surprise. His head snapped around so he could look her in the eyes again. He was frowning, but the frown faded quickly. _ _

_ _"That's not such an easy question to answer, Detective." His gaze drifted, as if he was thinking. "I've been on Earth for about two hundred years in total. " He coughed. "Of course, that's spread out over a couple of millennia."_ _

_ _"Millennia." There wasn't anything else to say. Two-hundred years were comprehensible, sort of. The world had gone from horses and muskets to electric cars and the Internet in two-hundred years. What had happened over thousands? _ _

_ _And yet, in this new and crazy world where Lucifer really truly _was_ the Devil, a few thousand years seemed…. Too short? It didn't leave much space to fit in the dinosaurs or a few ice ages, that was for sure. "Doesn't seem to be that long if you count it from 'the beginning of time.'"_ _

_ _Lucifer smiled and shot her a look that was almost proud. "It is and it isn't." He gestured at the digital clock that was part of the room's recording equipment. "It's only here on Earth that time is constrained by the rotation of the galaxy, the beat of your heart, or—" Lucifer tapped the clock. "—the vibrations of an atom."_ _

_ _He turned fully toward her. "Everywhere else," he said, moving a hand in a circle as if to encompass the universe, "time is in your perception." The invisible trail made by his hand turned into a straight line. "It moves forward for the most part, but…."_ _

_ _His hand fell to his side. Lucifer trailed off. "Well," he eventually said, and turned away from Chloe. "Even here… a few hours spent playing a board game can feel like they lasted forever. And years of partying and sex, drugs and rock and roll would seem to have passed in a flash." _ _

_ _He paused until the digital clock changed its minute count. "One of your precisely measured seconds, spent in Hell, would appear like weeks. Even years." He snapped his fingers. "But everything after 'Let There Be Light' passed like that. Until… well…."_ _

_ _Lucifer fell silent again. This time, he didn't seem inclined to continue any further. _ _

_ _"What do you want from _me_?" Chloe managed to ask. That was the big question, of course. Everything else, however crazy, would eventually come down to that. Why _her_?_ _

_ _Lucifer closed his eyes and shook his head. He breathed. Twice. Deep breaths. Then he looked Chloe in the eye again. He reached a hand to her face but dropped it before he even came close. "All I wanted from you, Detective, you have already freely given." His hand moved to indicate his own face and then swept downward. "Before… this." He looked away. "I… I should like the previous state of affairs to continue. If that is still what you desire." _ _

_ _Chloe was trying to process his words. They hadn't answered anything. They only caused more questions. _ _

_ _After the digital clock clicked forward again, Lucifer took a deep breath. "So what will it be, Detective? Shall I make myself scarce, or am I to face further inquisition?"_ _

_ _Chloe shook her head. She had to get her train of thought back on track. "Neither. I've caught a new case, and it's… weird. I could use your assistance interviewing a witness."_ _

_ _Lucifer's eyebrows rose, and then the corners of his lips followed to form a careful smile. "Well, then. Lead on, Detective."_ _

_ _-x-_ _

_ _Chloe first led Lucifer to the next observation room over. The one that _did_ have a view on Dan losing ever more of his patience listening to Constantine reiterate his claims. "We picked him up hanging around our crime scene. Woman dropped dead on the beach in the middle of the day. There isn't a mark on her and no sign that she'd gotten sick. Lab's not back on the tox screen, but Ella saw no indications of poison, either."_ _

_ _"Look who's a bad penny," Lucifer said, looking at Constantine with a sour expression. "And you left poor Daniel alone with him?"_ _

_ _"He wasn't being particularly talkative. And what he _was_ saying, Dan wasn't believing anyway."_ _

_ _Lucifer tilted his head in a sort of acknowledgment. "Yes, Daniel has always been reliably uninquisitive when it comes to the supernatural." He shrugged. "You would think he might have caught on by now."_ _

_ _Chloe sighed. "It took me this long to figure it out. Dan hasn't spent as much time around you as I have."_ _

_ _Lucifer looked at her sideways, one eyebrow raised. "Dan walked in on me having been shot, looked at the bullet hole in my tuxedo, and _let it go_. He's not going to admit there's anything out of the ordinary unless forced to."_ _

_ _Dan had walked in on Lucifer being _shot_? Lucifer had to have been hiding things for a very long time… but hiding getting shot was a little more than not telling her about doing favors for people. Given the dubious legality of some of Lucifer's favors, it was at least understandable that he kept quiet about them. But if people were shooting at him, that meant he was putting himself in the way of criminals– and without telling her about it. "When was this?"_ _

_ _"Oh, about… two years ago now?" Lucifer waved his hand to dismiss the issue. "Tim Dunlear — charitable sports hero who was hiding his sexual preferences from the world." He grimaced. "But not from his wife. Not that she minded. But she definitely _did_ mind him leaving everything to charity." His hand went for his chest. "We talked at Lux, and she let something slip so I realized she was our killer. Then she shot me to try to conceal it. Dan came in after."_ _

_ _That had to have been shortly before Mrs. Dunlear had been arrested. Lucifer had been there for the arrest, hale and hearty. Or at least he had appeared so. Chloe had seen Lucifer get shot, and he'd always bled even if he somehow made a miraculous recovery. The bloody feathers in her back pocket were further testament to that._ _

_ _"Why didn't you say anything?"_ _

_ _Lucifer huffed a mild laugh, then shook his head. "Would you have believed me?" He pointed at Dan, who was still in the interrogation room, shaking his head once more at Constantine's assertions. "Or would I have gotten that response?"_ _

_ _Lucifer had a point there. Still. "You've told me crazy-sounding stuff all the time."_ _

_ _"And how often did you believe it?" He faced the observation window again. "Sometimes if you don't want to be believed, an outrageous truth is better than a lie." This time, his finger found Constantine. "And that's what _he's_ doing, too. Brazening out the truth, hoping you'll release him as a loony."_ _

_ _Constantine wasn't doing anything to dispel a "crazy" judgment, that much was true. Although he must be running out of tricks, because he was now resorting to flirting with Dan. On second thought, flirting with the interrogator while not yet officially under arrest wasn't such a bad move if the goal was to get dismissed as insane. "You think he's involved." She didn't phrase it as a question._ _

_ _"He's here. He's involved in _something_."_ _

_ _Chloe frowned. "He turned out not to be involved last time."_ _

_ _Lucifer huffed. "He was involved. He wasn't the _murderer_, but he was involved."_ _

_ _"So you knew more than you told me about that one, too." Given all the revelations coming out today, Chloe didn't think she should be surprised. Still, it stung a little. More than a little. So many parts of the truth had been missing. So many secrets. Did she know Lucifer at all, by the parts he _had_ told her about?_ _

_ _"Not at the time we talked about it," Lucifer said in a clear attempt to placate her. "I called in some favors to track John down." His lips pushed together, as if he'd bitten into something sour. "I walked right into an attempt by John and his friends to capture the demon who was after him." _ _

_ __Demon_. The police report when the FBI closed the case had mentioned the woman that had been arrested. It hadn't mentioned any supernatural shenanigans. "Then who does the FBI have in custody?"_ _

_ _"That's the one." Lucifer frowned at her curiously. "Delivered to the authorities alive and unharmed, Detective. As promised."_ _

_ _And then again, there were statements like that. Chloe vaguely remembered making Lucifer promise — when he had looked like he was about to run off on his own — to bring in whoever he was going after. And although he hadn't deemed his actions worth mentioning until now — he'd still kept to his word. Somehow. And he was surprised that she would think otherwise. "A demon. The FBI—" She emphasized the letters in the acronym. "—have a demon in custody for a serial murder case. And you didn't think to tell them about that? To warn them, at least?"_ _

_ _Lucifer waved a hand dismissively. "Obviously she doesn't have her powers anymore. The FBI wouldn't have been able to hold her otherwise. But without them, a regular cell should suffice. If adequately guarded." He took a deep breath. "So, shall we see what John there has to say for himself?"_ _

_ _"Hold up. _How_…." Chloe wasn't out of questions yet, but Lucifer was done answering and headed for the actual interview room. Chloe hastened to get ahead of him. She had to be the first into that room or she'd miss at least half of the point of setting this up — Constantine's expression when Lucifer walked in._ _

_ _-x-_ _

_ _Lucifer slowed his steps as soon as she brushed past him, which let Chloe take the lead. He gave no sign of answering her half-posed question, however._ _

_ _She knocked on the door to let Dan know she was ready to come back in again. Dan gave her a curious glance when he opened the door and saw Lucifer at her back. When Chloe shook her head, Dan mentioned talking to Ella about lab results. By the set of his shoulders as he walked off, he was glad to be out of that interrogation._ _

_ _Constantine straightened a little from his slouch as Chloe walked in. He pulled the unlit cigarette from his mouth as if to say something. But then he caught sight of Lucifer coming in behind her, and the words died on his lips._ _

_ _Constantine bolted upright, his hand tightening into a fist. The cigarette fell to the table in pieces . His eyes went from Lucifer to her, narrowing as he tried to get a new read on Chloe. He hadn't expected Lucifer to be here. Score one for Decker._ _

_ _And then the moment was over. Chloe had to give it to him, Constantine's recovery hadn't taken more than a heartbeat. He slouched back down, expression neutral again. His shoulders stayed rigid, though._ _

_ _"Hello, John," Lucifer started in the honey-sweet tones that usually pointed toward him working his mojo. Hypnotism. Devil-magic… whatever. He didn't sit down, instead leaning over the table to get a little closer to Constantine. "What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?"_ _

_ _Constantine took several seconds to answer. Unlike most of the people subjected to Lucifer's gaze, he wasn't in any way trying to avoid it. Neither was there the whimpering foreplay or asking Lucifer to stop. Instead, Constantine met Lucifer's eyes glare for glare. Constantine's jaw clenched. The fingers of his left hand were scrabbling for a fragment of the dropped cigarette._ _

_ _Then Constantine nodded fractionally. "Your kind of trouble, I'm guessing."_ _

_ _His reply broke Lucifer's… spell. Lucifer frowned and sat down, shaking his head. "Hardly. I wouldn't even be here if you hadn't shown up."_ _

_ _Constantine shrugged. He gestured around the room. "And your buddies at the LAPD can tell you I barely had time to get in trouble. I only got into town yesterday evening."_ _

_ _That correlated with Constantine's earlier statements, his credit card history, and his hotel records. Chloe nodded. "But what you didn't tell us yet, Mr. Constantine, is why you came to LA. Was it to chase this 'ghost?'"_ _

_ _Lucifer leaned forward, grinning like a shark. "One day is plenty of time for you to get into trouble, too."_ _

_ _Constantine looked at Lucifer blankly for a few heartbeats to make it very clear he wasn't going to be responding to that jibe before turning to Chloe. "I was invited by a friend of a friend. She knew the grandmother of the girl in your morgue. _She_ claims the girl's hospital room was haunted." _ _

_ _"Was it?"_ _

_ _"No clue, love." Constantine raised his hands. "Haven't seen the 'scene of the crime,' so to speak. When I got to the hospital, they were running around like headless chickens, looking for their patient. I tracked her down and ended up on the beach, just before she dropped." He frowned. "But she was definitely acting possessed then. She was moving like nobody else on that beach existed." A nod to the door. "Ask whoever else you've got out there."_ _

_ _"We will," Chloe said. Reviewing witness statements from the scene was the next thing on Dan's to-do list. She'd put it there, if not._ _

_ _"Still traipsing all over the country to perform exorcisms, are you?" Lucifer said._ _

_ _Constantine shrugged. "It's what I do for a living. Not too many people out there that can do it, either."_ _

_ _"Fewer and fewer, if the stories I hear are anything to go by," Lucifer said. His grin had teeth. "Looks like the only one who comes out still _living_ is you."_ _

_ _"That's down to you as much as anything, isn't it?"_ _

_ _One instant, Lucifer had been sitting down, relaxed and smiling, though in a slightly threatening fashion. The next, without any apparent intervening motion, he was standing up, leaning over the table, his face only inches from Constantine's. Any traces of amusement were gone. _ _

_ _Constantine hadn't moved. He was so still, he couldn't even be breathing. Chloe found that her breath had hitched, too._ _

_ _After two heartbeats, Lucifer spoke. "Tread carefully, John." The words came out like a barely restrained growl. She'd never heard Lucifer speak quite like that. "I don't respond well to baseless accusations."_ _

_ _Chloe had found enough air for a single word. "Lucifer," she managed to get out. On second thought, she _had_ heard that kind of tone once before. Just before she'd ended up shooting the man — Devil — before her._ _

_ _Lucifer's head snapped around, and for a fraction of a second Chloe was caught in the cold intensity of his glare. She suppressed a shiver. There he was: the Devil. Then Lucifer blinked and nodded at her. He straightened, stepping away from the table._ _

_ _Constantine's shoulders drooped, and he took a deep breath. "No baseless accusations here, _mate_." He pointed down at the table. "I've been dealing with more and more possessions, demon incursions, and in general a rising darkness for the past, oh… six years or so." A pause. "When was it you came up here?"_ _

_ _Lucifer snorted. "You're spouting nonsense." He stepped back further to lean against the one-way mirror. "That's nothing to do with me." His accent had sharpened, back to the aristocratic tones it had had when Chloe first encountered him. She hadn't noticed it softening, over the years. All undone by a single well-placed comment._ _

_ _Points for bravado to Constantine, at least. The man knew who Lucifer was; the cues in his body language didn't show someone at his ease. But he wasn't going to let his fear stop him from saying whatever he wanted to say. The discussion was going off-topic for their current investigation — but it was providing more insight into Lucifer than Chloe had expected to get._ _

_ _Constantine made a show of looking around the room. "I'm not seeing anyone else in charge of Hell in here." _ _

_ _"_I'm_ not in charge of Hell," Lucifer shot back. He moved his shoulders to settle into his lean against the mirror. He also turned to look at Chloe for his last sentence. "Not anymore."_ _

_ _"And that's the problem, isn't it? All the things going bump in the night. There's nothing keeping them downstairs anymore. So now they're coming up here."_ _

_ _Lucifer rose to his full height and drew his head back, so he was looking down his nose at Constantine. "I never kept them in Hell. Even most of you humans could walk out whenever you wanted. But the demons…"_ _

_ _He pushed away from the wall. "To them, Hell was a refuge. My siblings—" Lucifer cast a glance upward. "—were driving them from Earth. I took them in." He lifted a hand, open palm upward. "And yes, to keep the heavenly host from my gates, I made them swear an oath not to return to earth. To each other. _Not_ to me personally." He took a step forward. "But before my siblings started their purge, those demons were gods in their own right. With their own worshippers."_ _

_ _Lucifer approached the table, leaning on it. He was in full aristocrat mode now. He looked Constantine in the eye again. His words came coldly once more. "If a human says the right prayers, nobody can deny a believer their free will. The demon they called can answer if they so choose." He stepped back but kept his eyes on Constantine. "And the human gets what they bargained for. Isn't that right, John?" Lucifer sounded smug as he uttered those last words, as if he were laying down a final argument._ _

_ _Constantine looked up at Lucifer from beneath lowered eyebrows. "I've made my mistakes," he admitted through gritted teeth, "and I'm still paying the price for them." He looked down. "Doesn't mean I have to let anyone else get hurt the same way."_ _

_ _"Oh yes, and you've been _so_ successful at that." _ _

_ _The two of them glared at each other across the table. At some point, _one_ of them would strike. Time to intervene. "Lucifer," Chloe said, and repeated his name when he didn't budge. When she finally did have his attention, she motioned her head to the door. _ _

_ _Lucifer made one more movement toward Constantine, but then he nodded and strode for the exit, leaving Chloe to follow._ _

_ _Once outside, Lucifer rounded on her. "This was a bad idea, Detective." _ _

_ _"It will be, if you keep on bickering with our witness instead of focusing on the actual case." In minutes, even seconds, Constantine had managed to get to Lucifer. Lucifer had been on the defensive and had responded by lashing out. Did they have that much more history than what she knew about? "What are you so scared of?"_ _

_ _Lucifer huffed and drew himself up. "I am not _scared_ of a two-bit sorcerer who gets all of his power from artifacts or demons."_ _

_ _Bullseye. "But you _are_ afraid of Constantine."_ _

_ _Lucifer sighed and bit the inside of his cheek . "He... has a talent for making people act against their own interests."_ _

_ _"That's it?" she said. Lucifer grimaced, but didn't elaborate further. "Does he actually _force_ people to do… whatever it is that's bad for them?"_ _

_ _Lucifer thought about that one for a while. "Not generally, no. At least not in the ways you're thinking about." A beat. "But the people he associated with last year are still _dead_, Detective, even if they harbored him willingly."_ _

_ _"You can't blame Constantine for that, Lucifer." Lucifer's expression set itself in preparation for another objection. Chloe continued, "If you can't at least be civil to our witness, I can't use you on this case."_ _

_ _Lucifers protests died. He recoiled as if she'd hit him. Then he closed his eyes and nodded. "Understood, Detective. I'll get out of your way." He turned away from her, back straight, shoulders down but with his head held high. And he strode off._ _


	3. Chapter 2

Chloe regretted her words almost immediately, but Lucifer was already on his way out the door. He could walk fast when he wanted to. To call after him now would cause a bigger scene — and still leave her trying to mediate between Constantine and Lucifer. No, it was better to have him gone. For now.

She checked with Dan to get Constantine's statements confirmed by the other witnesses. He had already called Constantine's hotel, and could confirm the man had checked in last night.

Ella was also at Dan's desk, having received a preliminary autopsy report. Their victim sported a very recent appendectomy scar that had been hidden under her clothing at the scene. The mark hadn't been involved in the cause of death, however. The scar was showing early signs of healing, the stitches hadn't been torn, and there had been no signs of infection in her blood.

Her blood work only showed the antibiotics and painkillers usually administered after an appendectomy. They'd have to check with the hospital to see if the woman had shown signs that the anesthetic had affected her more than was typical.

And Chloe would have to check the room for ghosts, too. Because that was the kind of world she was now living in. Maybe she should take Ella to ghost-wrangle.

Chloe wasn't sure how much Ella would appreciate Chloe bringing up what she'd been told in confidence. Especially not because Ella had apparently only just gotten rid of her own ghost. But there was another person with supernatural experience in the vicinity. One whose _job_ was exorcisms, if his own claims were to be believed. Using Constantine to assist the investigation would be going against procedure. But the world was going against procedure these days. If their murderer was a ghost, Chloe would need an expert in the supernatural. If that _expert_ had been the actual murderer, his behavior at the crime scene should be telling. She would have to keep her eyes open. Nothing new there.

She picked up the case file and returned to the interrogation room. Constantine was still waiting. As soon as she entered the room, Constantine's eyes went to the door. When Lucifer didn't come in, Constantine frowned at her.

"Mr. Constantine," Chloe started, but he interrupted her.

"Whatever favor you owe, we can find some way to get you out of it."

Chloe's eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"

Constantine nodded at the door. "Lucifer. Whatever he has over you to let him onto this case, there's usually some kind of loophole. If we can find it."

Huh. His offer was unexpected. And it added to her opinion of Constantine. He didn't know _her_, but he did know who Lucifer was. And he was trying to save her. "Thank you, but that's not necessary." She had never needed saving from Lucifer, Devil or no.

Constantine sat back. "I'm pretty sure bringing him in just to harass me wasn't enough to repay any kind of favor."

Chloe couldn't help the slight twitch of her lips. "Especially not because you harassed him right back?" She schooled her expression back into seriousness and shook her head. "He's off the case. No deals done, no favors owed."

Constantine's eyebrows were heading toward his hairline. "Since when? He's not usually one let a favor go."

"That," Chloe said, opening up her case file, "is none of your business." She put the file down on the table. "Tell me about last year."'

"Right." Constantine kept looking at her for several seconds. Then his expression turned into a smirk. "I'm not sure how that is any of _your_ business, Detective." His eyes went to the door. "And didn't Tall, Dark and Judgmental out there give you the details?"

"I was on that case. I've seen statements from everyone but you. I'd like to hear your side of it." She looked him in the eye, over a pair of imaginary glasses. "And I'm sure the FBI didn't get the whole story either."

Constantine gave a grudging nod. He gestured toward the door. "Like he said, if someone says the right words, a demon can come from Hell." He matched the stern look she'd given him before. "I wasn't the one who summoned her — but I did make a mistake when I tried to drive the demon out of a little girl." He looked away. "So she escaped. And came after me — or more like anyone who harbored me." He fell silent for a few seconds. "I might as well have killed them. Might have been kinder."

Chloe had seen what had happened to that demon's victims, so she could understand where the "kinder" comment came from. But Constantine _hadn't_ killed those people, and that counted for something. "Who were they — the people the demon killed?"

Constantine took a breath. "People who sheltered me for a night or two. Most of them were practitioners." At Chloe's frown, he explained further. "Mages or witches. People who could defend themselves." A grimace. "Not well enough."

There was remorse there, Chloe thought. And guilt. Constantine had to be a _very_ good actor if he was faking. She'd had some experience in seeing faked emotions recently. These weren't fake.

OK then. Constantine may be involved. He didn't tweak her instincts as "guilty" — at least not in the sense of "did the crime." And she should really be asking — she _wanted_ to ask — about how the demon had been taken down. But the crux of her questioning had been to determine Constantine's character. She was satisfied he meant well, and they did have another case to tackle. So….

"Thank you for telling me that," Chloe said, and took a deep breath. "Now, let's get back to the case at hand." She opened the folder in her hands and turned it toward Constantine. She put her finger on it. "Let's assume the girl was possessed. How would that happen?"

Constantine gaped at her, confused. Only when Chloe tapped the file again, more insistently, did he start to talk. "Ghosts only rarely possess people. It'd take a very strong one. Created from a sudden death and involving strong emotions, I mean." He frowned. "So that's bloody unusual to find in a hospital then, isn't it?"

"Lots of people die in hospitals. There's a lot of emotion there." Come to think of it, she'd come close to dying in a hospital herself. She checked the file, upside down as it was. Her own near-death experience had been in this very same hospital, even. And she'd been plenty frustrated, albeit only until she'd passed out from the seizures. She hadn't felt too much after that.

Constantine nodded. "Yeah, but it's on the part of the living. Anyone dying slowly of an illness wouldn't have the energy as a ghost. They'd've been using that energy just to stay alive a little longer." He grimaced. "I _really_ want to see that hospital room."

"Hmm." Chloe nodded. "Well, you may be in luck." She looked Constantine in the eye. "I need someone with experience on the supernatural, and I just sent my consultant home. Want to come instead?"

-x-

"And then she said she couldn't use me. So much for progress, then."

Linda nodded, for now not committing to a specific response yet. Lucifer had shown up early for their regular appointment and had been more loquacious than usual.

Not that Linda particularly objected. Once upon a time, she'd been jealous of Chloe Decker. No longer. Instead, Linda was low-key cheering the woman on. Especially for the positive effects Chloe had on Linda's patient, here. Not that Chloe didn't also lead to some emotional turmoil on his part — but that was _good_. She exposed those emotions, giving Linda something to work with.

Well, that and Lucifer's relationship with Chloe was a damn good story to follow along with. If Lucifer was willing to talk about it, bring it on. And today's developments had been… numerous.

"Doctor?"

"Ah." Linda straightened in her chair. She'd lost herself in her thoughts while she'd tried to fit Lucifer's statements into the framework she already had. "She invited you onto a case again. That's progress, isn't it?"

Lucifer sank back against the couch cushions. "Of a sort, I suppose." Now it was his turn to stare off into the middle distance.

"What I'm interested in," Linda started as she consulted her notes, "is why you accepted Chloe taking you off the case." She looked at Lucifer, one eyebrow raised. "You're normally more insistent."

Lucifer lips pulled down. "If the detective doesn't want me there, I'm not staying."

Linda checked her notes again. "But she didn't say, 'I don't want you here,' did she?" She left a pause there for Lucifer to respond, but he didn't say anything. "So that was an excuse. Why did you _really_ leave?" When Lucifer stayed silent again, she changed her question. "Was it because of Constantine?"

Lucifer grumbled but still didn't say anything, so Linda changed tack. "I think maybe Chloe was right. _Are_ you afraid of Constantine?"

Lucifer sighed. "Not… exactly." He leaned forward. "I do not _like_ him. What power he has, he got by manipulating others."

"And yet you let Chloe work with him on her own."

Lucifer snorted. "An interrogation is hardly _working_ with him. Even Constantine can't get up to much trouble in an interrogation room. The Detective will be quite safe."

"But you wouldn't be?"

Lucifer squirmed, settling back into the sofa and looking anywhere but at Linda. "I… _worry_—" This was followed by a single pointed glance at her before he looked away again. "—that if John knew of the Detective's effects on me, he might use that against me."

Ah, that seemed to be getting at the crux of things. "You met him before, didn't you? Did he try to manipulate you then? You never told me the whole story."

Lucifer pulled a face, as though he was tasting something foul. "No. But that situation couldn't have turned out better for him and worse for me if he _had_."

Linda frowned. "From what I heard on the news, you stopped a serial killer. That sounds like a win to me."

"I was forced into acting like one of Dad's good little angels, doing the job He set for me." That came forcefully. Lucifer was sitting up again, leaning forward and gesturing upward. "I thought I was tracking down a demon summoner. Instead I found a demon breaking her vows and was forced to judge her for that."

This was hitting a nerve. But still, Lucifer seemed to be making an overly fine distinction. "But the end result was the same, right?"

Lucifer huffed a laugh and leaned back in his seat. "I know Amenadiel gave you some of my history, Doctor. How much of it did he tell you?

"Not that much beyond your real name, but…."

"That is _not_ my real name," Lucifer interrupted her sharply. "Not any more."

He crossed his legs before he continued. "I was created to cast light where my Father was blind. For a while, I was happy doing it." Lucifer's eyes became more distant, but the expression on his face twisted. "And then Dad created humanity, the 'greatest' of his creations. They were free even from His will… and He found that while he could know everything else, He couldn't see into their hearts." A grimace. "But I could. If I asked, they would tell me their desires.

"After the first human was cast out of Eden, Father gave me a sword and commanded me to guard the gates. I was to be judge over those wanting to enter the garden. Only those whose heart and soul were pure, were to be allowed entry. Anyone else, I was to destroy."

Lucifer fell silent. Linda couldn't yet figure out what to say. She also had the feeling Lucifer wasn't done talking yet. If she interrupted now, he might never open up like this again. She was this close to holding her breath.

She should be taking notes. There was so much to discuss in Lucifer's statements and assumptions.

The silence stretched. Somewhere deeper in the building, a door slammed, and there were muffled sounds of people speaking. There was even some shouting. Someone's patient was having a hard time, it seemed.

Lucifer started again. He spoke more quietly now, tired and desperate. "The first rule we were given, once Dad created them, was 'do not kill the humans.'. And now he was asking me to obliterate their souls. Just because, when they came to the gates, they were not worthy. I… I couldn't."

His tone regained some strength, and he moved. "I would not." He was sitting proudly now, shoulders down and back straight. His regal posture didn't last long. Another door slammed, closer now, and Lucifer sank back down. "That choice cost me my place in Heaven. And although I had a place in Hell…."

Now there were not just doors slamming in the building, but a scrabbling at her door. Lucifer fell silent, the moment broken. Both looked over to the entrance. Linda started to rise, intending to tell the interloper that she was in session.

She never made it to the door. It burst open, and someone ran through.

Straight at her.

* * *

**Intermezzo**

The doors to the morgue loom in front of me. Approaching them feels like walking through molasses. I need to fight for every step forward, while it feels like my soul is sinking deeper and deeper.

A woman in LAPD motorcycle gear approaches me. "How about I make you an offer," she says.

I frown at her. I have to look up, she's so tall. I can see myself, mirrored in her sunglasses. She looks… wrong, somehow. I know what this place is supposed to look like. Despite her pretense at a uniform, this woman doesn't fit in.

She smiles at me. At least, the corners of her mouth turn up, and I can see her teeth. "I can get you out of here. And there's just one thing you have to do for me."

"Why would I want to get out of here?" I know why I'm here. And although I'm dreading what's inside as much as I'll ever dread anything, that doesn't mean I don't want to go there. I need to be there. I walk past the woman and go to open the door.

She takes a few quick strides to put her hand on the door, slamming it shut. As the turns to face me again, her blood-red ponytail swishes around. It nearly hits my face. "Are you sure? I could make it stop."  
I take a deep breath and try to give her a stern look. I end up addressing my two mirror images. "I don't want it to stop. Now please let me go in."

The woman doesn't move for a few seconds. Then she nods. "Suit yourself," she says. "If you don't want to take this deal, I can get a dozen others." She turns away and is gone. My way into the morgue is clear. Inside, the familiar policewoman awaits to take me to see my mother's body. It's the last time I'll get to see her. Again.


	4. Chapter 4

The staff at the hospital had already been interviewed by the LAPD earlier in the day. At the behest of the police, the victim's room had been left undisturbed. Chloe couldn't help but notice the undertone of annoyance from the administrator at having to keep a bed empty.

Still, the administrator's pique meant Chloe got access without having too many questions asked about Constantine tagging along. The sooner the police were done, the sooner that room could be used again.

Not that Constantine was that much stranger a tagalong than Lucifer usually was. Wearing a fresh shirt with his tie done up and his trenchcoat draped over his arm, Constantine almost looked respectable.

Chloe herself had a sense of deja-vu as she headed toward the ward the victim had walked out of. She'd been here before, minus the elevator ride. By the looks of it, she was one floor above the ward where she'd recovered from her poisoning.

The nurses on the ward itself were happier at having the room vacant. They didn't enjoy going in there, and most patients who had been put there had complained after a day or so. The room also had issues with the overhead lighting. Over the past year, they'd burned out more bulbs in that room than in the rest of the corridor put together. There were never any malfunctions in the medical equipment, they stressed to add. Just the overhead lights.

"Does any of this sound like a haunting?" Chloe asked Constantine before they entered.

"It could be," he replied. He shook out his trenchcoat and put it on, patting his pockets to check their accessibility. "Or there could be bad wiring in the nonessential power circuits."

Huh. A sensible explanation, lacking further context. "I hadn't thought you'd be much of a skeptic."

Constantine shrugged. "You advertise as an occultist, you also get called in to the stuff that's as mundane as can be. If I went in assuming the worst every time, I'd have nothing left for when it gets serious." He put his hand on the door. "Let's see what we've got."

He thrust the door open and resolutely stepped in.

Into an empty hospital room. There was still a little sunlight entering through the blinds. The lights were on, driving any shadows into the further corners of the room. It looked peaceful.

To Chloe, following close behind him with her hand on her gun, their entry felt … anticlimactic.

She stepped up beside Constantine, who had frozen in place at the foot of the bed. "So… faulty wiring?"

Constantine took a deep breath. "No." He swallowed, then pointed up. "The light isn't flickering."

Chloe looked up at the completely-steady tube light. A chill went down her spine.

The light fuzzed at the edges. _Something_ closed around her, sending cold through her limbs, making it hard to move. The light above her darkened further.

Chloe tried to call out, but she couldn't get control of her vocal cords. She was still drawing breath, but it didn't seem to reach her lungs. She wanted to raise her hand, but her muscles were failing to respond. The light shrank to a tiny pinpoint.

Constantine shouted something Chloe couldn't understand. He sounded like he was coming from a million miles away. The last speck of light disappeared.

Heat burned at her back, from her back pocket. Light leaked back into her vision from the lower edges. Soon, a warm brightness filled her field of vision. She could raise her hand. Once she'd raised it, someone grabbed it.

And the ordeal was over as unexpectedly as it had started.

Chloe toppled forward, fighting for breath. Constantine caught her. He put his other arm, the one he wasn't using to hold her hand, around her waist to keep her upright. "Easy, love." He guided her away from the spot where she'd stood.

Chloe blinked a few times, trying to get the afterimages out of her eyes. She felt as if she'd been staring at the sun while standing in a deep freezer. "What the hell _was_ that?"

"That," Constantine said as he guided her to the chair next to the door, "wasn't a ghost."

He let Chloe sit in the chair while he approached the bed. He spoke words that Chloe couldn't understand. As he did, something like black smoke flowed from his hands and formed two dark pools. One on the floor just off the foot of the bed, where Chloe had been standing. And one right above the bed.

Constantine stepped back. "These are portals. Something big came through here from Hell." He looked over at the other portal. "Maybe two big somethings." He walked around the two pools of smoke that were now fading away. "It left the way open for other things to come through. Seems likely that one of them possessed your victim."

"And tried to possess _me_," Chloe continued for him.

"Yeah." Constantine nodded. "Well done, fighting it off."

Chloe frowned at him. "I didn't do anything. I heard you shouting. I thought you cast a spell or something."

Constantine matched her frown. "Much as I'd like to take credit, that started out as a shout of surprise and turned into a spell that bounced off. I didn't do anything."

"Then what…?" Chloe started to ask, but remembered the heat coming from her back pocket. She felt in her pocket. Her jeans were still intact, but the pocket that should have had Lucifer's feathers in it instead had….

She closed her hand around the contents and brought them forward.

Earlier today, she'd had complete, bloodstained feathers in her back pocket, the white parts still faintly glowing. Now, all she had were a few bloody shreds that were barely recognizable as having once been part of a feather.

Constantine picked up the largest segment, which still had a bit of the shaft attached. He studied the fragment for a few seconds, then licked it. He nodded. "Those would have done the trick, all right." He stared at Chloe for several seconds. "Where the hell did you get angel feathers?"

"Lucifer," Chloe said, and immediately regretted it. The decision to use Constantine for her own purposes had proved a good one. But he didn't need to know how far her rela— _association_ with Lucifer went.

She'd given something of that up; she could tell by the way Constantine was looking at her. "And you don't owe him anything," he stated, coolly. "That must have been some favor you did him."

Chloe straightened in her chair, refusing to acknowledge that statement further.

"Right." Constantine nodded, then felt inside his pockets. He pulled two sticks from an inner pocket of his trenchcoat and handed her one. "You can help me close these."

Chloe examined the "stick" she'd been given. "This is a flare."

"An _enchanted_ magnesium flare, Detective." Constantine gestured to the two dark pools that had now all but disappeared. "These are portals of darkness. You close them with light. No need to make light with magic if chemistry does the job." He moved to stand over the portal at the foot of the bed and motioned for Chloe to hold her flare over the one on the bed. "I just add that little bit extra." He nodded at the flare in her hand. "Light that when I light mine."

He moved his free hand around the flare he held. He spoke more words that made no sense whatsoever. They were… maybe Latin? But they bore no resemblance to the language Chloe had heard in Latin prayers when she'd accompanied Dan to Mass.

As he spoke, Constantine's voice acquired a resonance it hadn't had before. His eyes glowed, too. She pulled the cord to light the flare when he did. Instead of illuminating the room, the light from the flare flowed out like the smoke had done earlier, into swirling patterns centered on the portals. The patterns spun there for a few seconds, then collapsed on themselves. And everything looked normal again.

Well. As normal as they were ever going to get, now.

"That's it?" she said.

Constantine nodded at her question. "That's all I can do." He huffed out a breath. "Of course, if you want to close them _properly_, you'd have to go to Hell and close them from that side." He shook his head. "Not volunteering for that."

Chloe was about to ask what could have done this. But she found she already knew, deep down. Like she'd already known that what Lucifer had been telling her had been true, after she'd opened her eyes on that rooftop. Lucifer. Again.

She'd been in this hospital, one floor down. And she'd been told that Lucifer had retrieved the formula for her antidote. From a dead man. She'd just gotten a big, big clue as to _how_.

She owed Lucifer her life, at least two — no, three —times over. And all _he_ seemed to want, by his own words at least, was to stay by her side. Something that had worked out incredibly to her own advantage over the years, current heartbreak and confusion notwithstanding. How else would she ever have found out how large the world was? What favor _had_ she done him?

Her phone rang. Lucifer's number. Maybe she could find out.


	5. Chapter 5

A man charged into Linda's arms. She couldn't stop a yell of panic from escaping.

The stranger grabbed onto her. "Linda! You're safe!" He tried for a hug, but when she pushed him away, he stepped back. He held out his hands as if in surrender. "I know, I know. I have no right. I was just happy to see you." He took a quick breath, looking around furtively. His fingers twitched, but he kept his hands to himself. "I need to find Lucifer."

"Lucky you," Lucifer spoke, coming up behind the interloper. His voice was low, all but a growl. "Here I am."

The stranger pivoted to face Lucifer. Unfazed by a look on Lucifer's face that would have sent most people running, whether they believed he was the Devil or not, the man continued. "You warned me, once. I didn't listen. But I heard that warning thousands of times. I understand now. They came to let us out."

Something about the speech pattern was familiar. The stranger's words meant more than the nonsense they appeared to be on the surface.

Lucifer had taken hold of the stranger's arm. The restraint did nothing to stop the man from talking. "They offered me a deal. All I had to do when I got out was summon one of them." The stranger turned his head, taking another look at Linda. And again, the look in his eyes, wild as it was, was familiar.

The stranger turned back to Lucifer. "But I knew there was nothing they could deal for, so I refused." A grin flashed across on his face. Because you told me. The door is always open. I got out anyway." The stranger kept babbling. Listening to him was painful, almost. The last time Linda had seen someone babble like that, her late ex-husband had been trying to convince her Lucifer was the Devil.

"What deal?" Lucifer finally got another word in edgewise. The threat had gone from his expression. Instead, he seemed equally curious and horrified.

He was still holding on to the interloper's arm, his hand set off against the dark blue of the stranger's shirt. As his hand moved slightly, a flash of light caught Linda's eye. At first she thought it was a reflection, but it wasn't. The dark stone of Lucifer's ring was _glowing._

Lucifer noticed. He recoiled from the stranger, pulling back his hand and stepping away. He was shaking his head and his mouth was working, forming soundless denials.

The stranger smiled, then reached out and took Lucifer's hand again. "It's OK, Lucifer. I got to do what I wanted." He turned toward Linda. "Linda, honey, I'm so sorry. I got obsessed too many times, and I went too far. But it's over now." He sighed, then smiled. "There, I got to say it. Thank you for listening."

He turned back to Lucifer and put his other hand over their joined hands. "And thank you, too, for telling me the way out."

The similarities in mannerism and speech lined up too well. The stranger bore no outward similarities, but the personality was hard to miss. And it was _possible_ for a soul to return to Earth. If Lucifer hadn't talked about it, Linda had seen it happen with Charlotte Richards. Could it be?

Linda had to ask. "Reese?"

The stranger's head inclined, a single nod delivered with a smile. Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into Lucifer's arms with a sigh.

Dead.

* * *

**Intermezzo**

Once again, I'm at the doors of the morgue. I've lost count of how often I've been here. Nothing has changed.

As I'm about to open the doors, I hear an engine rev. A biker in LAPD uniform pulls her bike between me and the doors. She removes her helmet to reveal hip-length red hair. I've seen her before, in a similar situation.  
"Remember the offer from last time?" she asks. At my nod, she continues. "It's still open, if you want."

I shake my head. "No, thank you." I take a step back so I can go around her bike. "I'd like to go see my mother now."

The woman growls. She tosses the helmet, before gunning the engine on her bike again. "Suit yourself." And she drives off. I have to jump aside to avoid getting hit.


	6. Chapter 6

Lucifer's phone call had been brief and cryptic. But one thing had been crystal clear. Something had upset him deeply. Chloe had barely managed to get him to tell her where he was.

Now she pulled up to Linda's office to find a police cordon already set up. Someone else must have called the authorities. From the way he'd acted in their call, it hadn't been Lucifer.

Chloe left Constantine in the car. She was admitted into the building after she showed her badge to the officer assigned to guard the cordon. An office near the door held most of the building's remaining occupants, who were being interviewed by uniformed officers. Neither Linda nor Lucifer were among them.

Chloe found Linda in her own waiting room, nursing a large and, from the smell of it, _very_ Irish coffee. She'd already given a statement, but she repeated it to Chloe.

Her story was concise and matched with what the witnesses outside had been saying. It definitely explained why Linda was in shock. Not every day someone broke into your office and dropped dead, after all. But Linda's statement was a bit too pat for all the pauses she kept taking. She was leaving things out.

Also, the story as Chloe understood it so far wouldn't have upset Lucifer to that degree. Linda had been in the room with him. She had to have seen more than this. And Linda _knew_, right? She had to. She was Lucifer's therapist.

Chloe looked over her shoulder to check for potential eavesdroppers. The only people in the room were passing through to Linda's office — the crime scene. They weren't paying attention to this conversation, if they could hear it at all.

She looked at Linda again and nodded. "OK, that was the official version." She mimed putting away her notebook — she hadn't been taking notes anyway. She lowered her voice. "But off the record, what _really_ happened?"

Linda blinked and pulled her head back. She went rigid for a second. Then she took a deep breath and her shoulders came down again. "Oh, right. Lucifer said you'd…"

"Fallen down the rabbit hole? Yeah." Chloe gave a single firm nod, but then shook her head. "This isn't about my induction into the world of the weird. This is about what happened _here_." She put her hand on the arm of the couch, closer to Linda. "I'm not officially on the case, but I'd like to find out what's going on anyway. If you feel up to it, of course."

Linda nodded and swallowed. She opened her mouth, stopped, and took a sip of her coffee. "I think…" Another swig of coffee, a larger one this time. "I think Reese came back. Somehow. Came back to warn Lucifer about something."

"Reese? Your ex-husband? Wow." Her _dead_ ex-husband, at that. That had to rate high on the scale of shocks to the system. Remarkable that Linda was sitting there as calmly as she was, despite the boozy coffee. Even if she _had_ been in the loop longer than Chloe had been. She put her hands around Linda's on the coffee mug. "Are you sure you're OK?"

Linda gave Chloe a weak smile. "I'll be fine. Nothing happened to _me_, after all."

Right. Linda had come out unscathed this time. That hadn't always been the case. She had ended up in hospital at some point for reasons Linda hadn't specified. But given her close confidential relationship with Lucifer, it wouldn't surprise Chloe if Linda's injury back then had also been related to supernatural shenanigans. What a situation to be in.

Chloe nodded. "Nothing physically happened, no, but that had to be a shock. You're being a consummate professional about all of this. You don't have to be. It's OK to be upset."

This time, Linda's smile was stronger, more genuine. She echoed Chloe's nod. "Oh, I plan to have a proper breakdown once I'm in private. But I can hold out for a while."

Someone spoke from the doorway. "Detective Decker?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there." Chloe turned back to Linda. "I have to go. But call me if you need a friend, OK?"

As Chloe got up to leave, Linda spoke up one more time. "Chloe." When Chloe turned to look at her, Linda peered at her over the rims of her glasses. "You do realize that what you just said to me applies to yourself, too?"

-x-

The person who had called Chloe's name was the lead detective on the case, Renee Salvatierre. She met Chloe by the door to Linda's office. "Look, Decker, you're working a similar case, so I don't mind you interviewing my witnesses. But keep your wacky consultant under control before I arrest him for interfering with my crime scene."

Chloe frowned. "Lucifer's one of your witnesses, and I'm not…"

The other detective shook her head. "I know the two of you haven't been working together, and Morningstar's been nice and cooperative. He's in the next office over, by the way, if you want to talk to him, too." She opened the door to Linda's office – the official crime scene. "I mean the guy pretending to be Columbo."

Constantine was standing next to the body, his hands in his pockets, looking like he'd been investigating suspicious deaths forever. He hadn't bothered to take off his trenchcoat this time. Ella crouched at his feet, doing her customary examination of the body and taking notes.

"I can't argue with results," the other detective told Chloe. "And Morningstar worked out well, cuckoo as he is. But did you have to trade tall, dark, and handsome for short, blond, and—" Her tone soured. "—scruffy?"

"He's only helping out on this case. He wasn't supposed to come to the scene." Chloe shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'll get him out of your hair."

She strode over to Constantine. "What are you doing here? You should have stayed in the car."

Constantine regarded her with an expression of bland innocence. "There's nothing useful to see in the car, Detective Decker."

Yeah, right. He knew he should have stayed, but came in anyway. What was it about her that attracted guys with authority issues? "How did you get in, anyway?"

"I asked nicely," was the answer, delivered with a smirk that reminded Chloe of nothing so much as Maze announcing that the police receptionist was no longer into men. Really. What was it about her life? And Constantine was human, by all accounts. Including Lucifer's.

Chloe sighed. Best to roll with it, then. That would get Constantine out of here fastest, at least. "So, what do you see?"

Constantine's shoulders slumped. "Nothing whatsoever," he said, having the grace to look sheepish. "Looks like he just dropped." He waited for a few seconds, then continued. "But there wasn't anything to see at the beach, either. Not afterward."

"Great." So Constantine inveigling his way into the crime scene didn't even give her any useful information. At least she had another source literally at her feet. "Ella, did you find anything?"

"Oh, hey, Chloe," Ella acknowledged without looking up. She shifted her position and reached for her camera. "Your buddy is right. Nothing to see here." She snapped the picture and then finally looked up. "And I'm serious about that. Just like your case. No signs of violence or resistance." She pointed at a discoloration on the sleeve. "One cigarette burn or similar on the upper arm, but that wouldn't have been enough to do damage. It doesn't look like the burn got through to the skin" She shrugged. "Not even any outward signs of a stroke or heart attack. This is another one where we'll have wait for the ME to figure out what happened."

"We know he's a security guard, at least," Chloe offered, pointing at the man's uniform. "I recognize the company." Two years ago, she'd observed a number of interviews with people wearing identical uniforms. They'd passed through the precinct as witnesses while her colleagues dealt with the aftermath of Trixie's kidnapping and Malcolm Graham's death.

"Pretending to be one to gain entry?" Constantine suggested.

Ella shook her head. "And dress up in the uniform of the wrong company? The companies providing security around here wear different uniforms." She pointed back down at the body. "These guys do security on industrial sites, not offices."

Chloe caught the eye of the detective in charge, who was still glaring at her from Linda's doorway. Right. She was supposed to get Constantine out of here. "Let's see what Lucifer has to say," she suggested to Constantine. "Before Renee arrests you for contaminating her crime scene."


	7. Chapter 7

Lucifer was indeed one office down the corridor. The door bore the label "Canaan."

Walking into the office was like walking into a wall of stale nicotine. Lucifer had been smoking, as further evidenced by a tumbler full of dog-ends on the table. The tumbler sat next to an empty bottle of Tullamore Dew.

Lucifer looked up as Chloe entered the room. An expression of relief spread across his face as he caught sight of her. But then his eyes shifted to Constantine coming in behind her, and his face darkened again.

He pushed himself up from where he'd been sitting and stalked over to Constantine. "You," he growled, and Constantine froze. Lucifer drew intimidatingly close to Constantine, making the most of their height difference. "You show up, and everything falls apart."

"_You_'re blaming _me_?" Constantine spat up at Lucifer. He jabbed a finger into Lucifer's chest. The gesture didn't do much, but it at least brought Lucifer to a halt. "I wouldn't even _be_ here except a friend called me in to fix _your_ cock-up, you sanctimonious prick."

He stepped in even closer, right into Lucifer's personal space. "If you hadn't been gallivanting around up here and playing cop with your girlfriend—" He gestured to Chloe. "—folks down _there_—" A finger jab straight down. "—wouldn't be trying to find loopholes around your bloody worthless 'oath.'"

Lucifer's eyes widened and he shot a quick glance at Chloe. Then his expression darkened again. He drew himself up even further somehow and grabbed Constantine by the collar. "If she comes to any harm, John, I swear…."

"_I_ just watched her almost get possessed by a demon coming through a portal to Hell," Constantine shot back, not even waiting for Lucifer to finish his sentence. "And you're telling me that it's nothing to do with you? Isn't it, my arse."

And there Constantine had it. Lucifer actually backed down. He let go of Constantine to move closer to Chloe. "What happened, Detective?"

Chloe held off answering that question. First she gave her best glare to the both of them. Lucifer looked suitably chastened, but Constantine just started fishing in his pockets. "Are both of you done with this pissing contest? I'd like to get back to our case." Constantine found a packet of cigarettes somewhere and flicked open a lighter. "And you can't smoke in here."

"Why not?" Constantine shrugged and lit up. He moved his head to indicate Lucifer. "He did."

Chloe rolled her eyes. She had to swallow the, "Oh, my God," that really, really wanted to come out at that statement. Saying it would most likely just provoke Lucifer into another off-topic rant. And yet… the situation felt so much more normal than it had in weeks. She settled for a sigh. "Lucifer, let's start with you. What happened here?"

Lucifer cast a sidelong glance at Constantine and cleared his throat. "I destroyed a soul." Constantine froze, his cigarette two inches away from his lips. Lucifer looked away, continuing, "And he thanked me for it." He fell silent, still not meeting either Chloe or Constantine's eyes.

Constantine, too, remained silent. The cigarette stayed in his hand, its cylinder of ash getting longer as Constantine regarded Lucifer. "You," Constantine eventually said, "_you_ destroyed a soul?" He finally noticed the ash approaching his fingers and dumped the cigarette on top of Lucifer's collection of dog-ends. "I thought you enjoyed collecting them."

Lucifer's shoulders twitched, perfectly synchronized with the further downward turn of his mouth. He gave Constantine a foul look that made Lucifer look as old as he had claimed a few hours ago, and as weary as could be expected of that sort of age. "And I thought you knew better than to believe everything you hear, John." He worked his shoulders again, stretching his back before slumping slightly. "I never set out to collect souls."

"Could have fooled me. If I had a nickel for every person I've talked out of selling their soul to some demon…."

"And if I collected souls, would I allow them to be sold to someone else?" Lucifer bit back. The weariness lifted a little, showing some of his old indignation at being judged by his popular image. "Your soul is yours to do with as you please… including selling it to whoever will take it." A beat. "Which isn't me."

"For someone who wasn't trying, you did build up quite the collection."

"They came to me on their own. I just gave them what they asked for. No transaction required."

"They asked for torture, did they?"

"They asked for punishment, or for a second chance. And then they call _me_ their torturer."

Chloe shook her head, trying to clear it. There were so many questions she could ask about this whole conversation. But she had to stick to the case at hand. "OK, back on topic, please. Lucifer, there are no signs of violence on the body in Linda's office. It looks like he dropped dead of his own accord. What makes you think you killed him?"

"I destroyed a soul." Lucifer paced around a bit, seeking support from the back of a chair. "With the soul gone, what's left is just a body. And it wasn't even the original one." He gestured to the wall that separated this office from Linda's. "The soul that belonged in that body was gone long before the one I destroyed got here."

That made approximately zero sense. "You're going to have to slow down on that explanation." But there were at least two dots to connect. "Linda said she thought Reese had come back. Is that what you're talking about?"

Lucifer nodded and sat down onto the chair he'd been using for support. The chair had stood with its back facing toward Chloe. Lucifer didn't turn the chair around, but instead sat on it backwards, using the back of the chair as an armrest.

When he sat like that, both the whiskey bottle and the tumbler he had been using as an ashtray remained within arm's reach. Sitting on a chair when there was a couch available — sitting on it backwards, even, which couldn't have been comfortable — wasn't like Lucifer

"The short explanation is this: it's possible for souls to return to Earth from Hell. But…" Lucifer sat up straighter. "There needs to be a body for that soul to go into. It can't exist on Earth unprotected." He took a breath. "Not for long, anyway."

Another gesture toward Linda's office. "Our interloper was indeed doctor Linda's late ex —he mentioned something I had only spoken about to him. And I think what I said helped him find a way out." Lucifer's eyelids dropped. "But it does mean the original soul was long gone. Two souls cannot coexist in one body."

Chloe thought back to the hospital, the darkness closing in on her and cutting off control of her body. Was that what had been happening? Something driving the soul out of her body? "How does that work?"

Lucifer frowned. "You know, I'm not quite sure. In my experience, a returning soul takes the nearest available empty body — someone who has recently deceased." He thought for a beat. "Extremely recently. The new soul has to inhabit the body at the time of death."

"One very easy way to ensure that," Constantine interrupted, "is to cause the death yourself."

Lucifer sat up, an indignant expression on his face. But before he said anything, he looked at his ring and his expression softened. The silence lasted longer this time. "I would say you're wrong, John. But…" Another silence stretched to the point of awkwardness. Lucifer played with the ring on his finger, fondling the stone. "A soul on its own cannot affect the material world. But perhaps it could affect other souls, indeed."

He turned the ring on his finger so the stone was in his palm. He held out his hand, palm up, showing the black stone. After a quick glance at both Chloe and Constantine, he closed his eyes.

At first, nothing happened. But after three breaths, the color of the stone changed. It mottled, the obsidian starting to clear. Lucifer let out a sigh and rolled his shoulders. The stone cleared entirely, then somehow became brighter still. As if it was _glowing_.

Constantine had been slouching against the wall near the door. Now he stepped closer, eyes fixed on the ring.

Lucifer slowly opened his eyes. As he, too, looked at the shining ring, his mouth pulled downward. "Divine light," he said. Then he closed his fist, and the light disappeared. "When Mr. Getty touched me, I felt it being pulled from me. He absorbed it until he died. Again."

More silence. Chloe didn't quite know what to make of this little demonstration of the supernatural. Compared to Lucifer's face, compared to the feathers — compared to what she had undergone this afternoon, even — a ring changing colors was nothing. And yet it felt more solemn somehow.

Finally, Lucifer gave a single nod. "Every soul has a tiny little bit of that light." He looked at Chloe with what was almost a smile, before looking Constantine in the eye. "Even you, John." Another frown. "But Hell has a tendency to wear away that light. If a soul succumbs to its torture, eventually it becomes nothing but a shadow of itself. Mr Getty was a shadow, putting himself in the path of a light source."

He took a deep breath. "How long it takes for the light to fade depends on the soul — it might take milliseconds or it might take millennia — but it will happen. The exceptions are so rare I know them all by name."

"Who?" Constantine. Chloe looked over at him with annoyance. Even if she was also a little curious, the answer to that question was entirely unrelated to this case.

Lucifer seemed to agree. "That's not relevant at this point. _And_ it's none of your business, anyway." He paused, trying to regain the thread that Constantine had interrupted. "Endure torture long enough, and the torture becomes the world. Everything else drains away until all remains is a… a core of darkness — the cause for the torture in the first place. But even though souls like that have no light of their own left, they'll reach out for any spark they can find."

He huffed out a humorless laugh. "Not that they should ever be able to find any, given that they shouldn't be able to find the doors of their cells, either." He looked up sharply, at both Chloe and Constantine. "But if they ever should get out, they would absorb the spark of light from a human soul easily. That would kill whoever they absorbed."

Chloe thought back to the darkness closing in on her vision, back at the hospital. And to the bright, warm light that had flared from Lucifer's feathers and driven the darkness away. "That sounds…"

Lucifer's attention was entirely on her as soon as Chloe opened her mouth. "Yes, Detective?"

"At the hospital…" Chloe waved her hands, trying to indicate… something. She wasn't sure herself what. "Something tried to take me over. It was dark, and I couldn't move, and…"

Lucifer was on his feet before she could finish speaking, taking the few steps required to reach her in a heartbeat. He stood close enough to hug her, but instead his hands found her upper arms, and he looked in her eyes, concern on his face. "Are you all right?"

"No thanks to you," Constantine interrupted.

Lucifer hands dropped to his sides. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Can we perhaps agree to a cessation of accusations for a moment, John? What happened at the hospital?"

"There was a weak spot there. Something big came through from Hell at some point, and it left a portal these things could use." Constantine put his hand on Chloe's shoulder. "They nearly took her over."

Chloe took Constantine's hand and lifted it off her shoulder. "I can talk for myself, thanks." She turned back to Lucifer. "But that's about what happened, yes. At least as far as I understood it."

"Something came through from Hell?" Lucifer frowned. "Where was this?" He shook his head. "Which hospital, I mean."

Chloe gave the name of the hospital. "I think the room was right above mine last year." And she got to see the color draining from Lucifer's face.

"Ah." Lucifer took a few steps back. "Yes, that would be a place where a soul could come through." He turned slightly to the side, looking thoughtful.

"So we're done, then?" Constantine asked. "I already closed the portal that brought your interloper here."

"That seems unlikely," Chloe said at the same time Lucifer responded with, "Perhaps not." Constantine quickly looked from one to the other.

Lucifer held out his hand to her, palm open. "After you, Detective."

"We don't know yet who—" Chloe paused. This wasn't an easy sentence to continue. "—Ah… donated the body in Linda's office. But he doesn't look like a recent patient. And the uniform he's wearing isn't the one the security guards at the hospital wore, either." She checked her notes. "Ella said this firm mainly does industrial security. And I know I've seen them at airfields."

Lucifer nodded. "Like where we had the unfortunate encounter with Detective Graham?"

"Yeah. The uniform was familiar."

"I dare say it was." Lucifer sighed. "It appears I may indeed carry some responsibility for today's events, Detective." He turned so he was also addressing Constantine. "What came through in that hospital room was me."

Constantine frowned. "You're not telling me that every time you go back and forth between Hell and Earth you're leaving holes between the worlds."

Lucifer shook his head. "Not every time, no." He fidgeted, as if he didn't particularly want to continue. "But these were… special circumstances. And there was one other time when similar circumstances were present."

"With Malcolm." Chloe didn't phrase it as a question.

"Exactly."

"Great," Constantine said, forestalling any further discussion. The enthusiasm implied by his word choice wasn't present in his voice. "We've got _another_ of these portals to seal. Let's get to work before we've got any more souls walking around in bodies they don't belong in." He stepped up to Lucifer and planted a finger on his chest. "And this time, you can help clean up _your_ bloody mess."

* * *

**Intermezzo**

Inside the morgue, a female officer approaches me, asks for my name. She's pretty, despite the bulky uniform. She looks a little familiar, like I've seen her before somewhere, although I can't place her. But this isn't about her. This is all about the formal identification I'm about to make.  
I don't see anything of the corridors leading to the morgue itself. I only see the table with the body on it. The policewoman says something kind, and she sounds like she means it. But then the sheet is pulled back, and that, too, is irrelevant.  
I don't know how long exactly I've been standing there, crying over the body of my mother. But while I'm drying my tears, I look up and realize there is a fourth person in the room, beside the policewoman and the doctor. Was he supposed to be here?

He almost looks like he belongs. He's leaning casually against the wall next to the door, and his face carries a somber expression. He's not even looking at me. Instead his eyes follow the policewoman as she moves across the room. He's even taken off his jacket and left it somewhere, so he's in shirtsleeves and a suit vest. But he doesn't belong. The suit is far too nice for a police officer or a city ME. Nobody else around here is dressed as well as that. And someone who had dressed nice for a special occasion wouldn't be in the morgue.

More importantly, although the man's eyes are on the policewoman almost constantly, she doesn't acknowledge him. She doesn't even appear to see him. She talks to me and to the doctor, but this new man is ignored entirely. As if he wasn't there

When she guides me outside, the policewoman almost looks the new stranger in the eye, and his face lights up with a smile. But still he doesn't get a response, and the smile fades as I, too, walk past him.


	8. Chapter 8

They had to make one more stop before heading for the warehouse. Constantine claimed to need more supplies if he was going to close any more portals, so they stopped at his hotel. The hotel was one of LA's seedier ones. Chloe knew it by reputation. She had no desire to get a close look at Constantine's room.

That left her in the car outside the hotel with Lucifer, waiting for Constantine.

Lucifer had taken shotgun. He stayed silent, but he kept fidgeting. Like he couldn't seem to find a comfortable position. His silence gave Chloe some time to process the day so far.

It still felt unreal. She'd been finding a way back to something resembling normality, and then came this case. To be fair, when she wrote up this as a report, she'd be hard pressed to present anything like credible evidence for any of it. She had nothing but two bodies and no clues as to how they had died. But then she was a homicide detective and finding those clues was her _job_.

The episode at the hospital and Constantine's light show — those were a bit less of a daily occurrence. But again, bits of weirdness had been taking place around her for years now. There had always been some sort of reasonable explanation. Or at least that's what she had thought at the time. Only this time, the weirdness hadn't just been _around_ her. It had been inside her. She'd felt it to her core, and she wasn't quite sure how to process those feelings yet.

Even focusing on something more familiar and tangible, like the conversation between Constantine and Lucifer, and Lucifer's subsequent admissions, left her a little lost. Lucifer had never spoken _seriously_ about all the supernatural goings-on around him. He'd spoken about it plenty, of course — but never in a way she could have believed. Today, though, everything he had said had almost been casual. The explanations were incidental to what was really going on. And that made them more powerful than ever.

"Torture," Constantine had said.

"Punishment," Lucifer had corrected. But….

"You said people came to you, in Hell." The words were out almost before Chloe realized she was talking.

Lucifer stopped fidgeting for a second to look at her sideways. "That came with the job, Detective."

"And they asked for punishment?"

"They did." Lucifer looked away. "Of course, after the first few million , I didn't enquire personally for every single one."

"Million?" It was so, so easy to look at Lucifer and see a man. He wasn't. With this new willingness to _really_ talk about himself came these occasional glimpses of Lucifer reasoning on scales outside of Chloe's comprehension. He'd said that time in Hell ran differently. It ran slower. That might have given him time to interrogate every soul in –ah - person. But had there been so many, that Lucifer could consider 'the first few _million_ to be a trivial number?

"Every soul who ever lived came to me, Detective. Or nearly so." Lucifer gave her a quick glance before looking away again. "Only those who _believed_ they should go to Heaven didn't end up on my doorstep." He grimaced. "Sometimes, even _they_ came, if my siblings refused them entry."

"And you gave them what they said they wanted. Punishment."

"Yes. I've said."

An endless parade of people asking to be punished. No wonder he'd stopped asking. But…. "You let that go on. Until there was nothing left but darkness." That was a sticking point. Lucifer had never appeared cruel to her. But leaving people stuck in their torment like that _was_ cruel.

Lucifer huffed. There was no power behind it. "I've told you that too, Detective. I'm a monster." He remained silent for a short time. "I got no joy from watching people who acted out of good intentions torture themselves — but how was I to stop them? And even though it is satisfying to see a true miscreant get their comeuppance — after a few weeks there is little difference between the two."

To some extent, Lucifer truly seemed to believe himself a monster. Someone who enjoyed watching people torture themselves indefinitely _would_ be. But that wasn't Lucifer. She'd seen him take pleasure in people getting justice, and he wasn't above adding some ironic twists to that justice. But not more than that. Discussing it now, Lucifer sounded very, very tired. Tired of what?

From what Chloe had heard today, Lucifer _had_ gotten the formula for her antidote from a dead man. By going to Hell. And if similar circumstances had been present when Malcolm had shot him….

_"I thought you'd died." _

_"Oh, I did. I got better."_

He _had_ sacrificed himself for her. They were friends, back then. They had a partnership that worked well, and they trusted each other. But nothing worth sacrificing one's life for, surely?

And yet Lucifer had. Twice at least. Without telling her about it, without taking any credit – which he was usually more than happy to do. Those weren't the actions of a monster. "I don't believe you're a monster, Lucifer."

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but his answer was forestalled by Constantine exiting the hotel, duffel bag in hand.


	9. Chapter 9

As they pulled up to the airfield Lucifer turned to Chloe. "Perhaps you should sit this one out, Detective."

"Good idea," Constantine agreed from the back seat.

"What? No." Chloe said. "Why?

"If there is only a portal there, John can close it without any problems. But if there are any more souls floating about, they would see you as a potential vessel. You would be at risk."

"I've survived an attack once."

"We got lucky," Constantine retorted.

Chloe supposed they had a point. Constantine had shown himself to be a sorcerer at the hospital. And she'd had Lucifer's feathers. Who knew what other powers or abilities Lucifer could bring to bear — before today, he'd always done so in the background. But she now knew that he _had_ used them, and used them on her behalf, even. Still, she couldn't be left out of her own case. She had to see this through. "Except the both of you are forgetting one thing. I'm the only one with the authority to gain access to the hangar. Without me, you'd be breaking and entering."

Constantine grinned and waggled his fingers at her in the rear-view mirror. "Wouldn't be the first time, love."

Chloe gave him a stern look via that same mirror. "Do you _want_ to be arrested?" Chloe shook her head. "We are still pursuing an official investigation. I'm coming."

Lucifer regarded her for a few heartbeats, mouth working as if he were trying to find a way to object. Eventually, he sighed. "Oh, very well, Detective. But please …." Another hesitation. "Be careful."

Chloe showed her badge to the security guard doing his rounds and asked a few questions. The superintendent had indeed been missing his colleague, who'd disappeared partway through his route. That route could have placed him close to the building she was now interested in investigating. The superintendent handed over the key without any further objections. He claimed there weren't any goods in there worth taking. That specific hangar had been in disuse for about two years. Although he couldn't say _why_ it had been unused for so long.

At the door to the hangar, Constantine held his hand out for the key. Chloe handed it over. Just because she wanted to come along didn't mean she had to be the first through the door. Constantine handed her two flares. "Just in case."

Chloe hesitated, then turned to Lucifer. "I had some of your feathers." It felt strange, saying the words. "At the hospital. They stopped me from being taken over."

Lucifer stared. "I thought I had cleaned those up." He reached out a hand but stopped short of touching her. "I'm glad they saved you, but you shouldn't have had them, Detective."

"Why not, if they saved me?"

Lucifer shook his head. "They made you more of a target. With those feathers, you were by far the brightest thing in the room." He looked over to Constantine, then shrugged one shoulder. "Although with _him_ as the alternative, you might still have been the one attacked."

"Then I'm glad I had them."

Lucifer kept eye-contact for a few more seconds. Then his lips twitched upward in the barest of smiles. "Me too, Detective." He looked away. "But once again you were in more danger because of me."

She wasn't getting any more feathers, then. "I wasn't anywhere I didn't choose to be, Lucifer."

"Well this is all lovely and romantic," Constantine interrupted. He held up the key he had just received from Chloe. "But let's get down to business, shall we?"

Constantine, one of his flares in one hand, turned the key with the other. Chloe followed behind Constantine. Lucifer then took point going into the building.

She heard the characteristic _whoosh_ of Constantine activating a flare as she came through the door. But then….

It was like walking into a wall.

* * *

**Intermezzo**

Traffic in LA is Hell.

Somehow, I make it home. As I climb the stairs to my crappy little apartment, I see a stranger at the top of the stairs. He's leaning against the wall next to my door. Almost as if he's waiting for me.  
I know this stranger, tall, dark-haired and finely dressed in a designer suit. Although he's lost his jacket. Something about the way he's standing triggers a strong deja-vu. But I don't think I've ever spoken to him.

I vaguely remember another stranger, someone who didn't belong, showing up…. somewhere. They had come for a reason. Was this man here with a similar purpose?

"Are you offering to take me out of here, too?" I ask him.

He looks surprised that I've seen him. Or maybe he's surprised by the question. "Would you accept if I did?" he asks after a few seconds.

My phone buzzes. I look away from the stranger to check it. I don't recognize the number, but I answer it anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

Much faster than at the hospital, darkness enveloped her. Chloe managed to stumble forward two steps, but then she was no longer in control of her limbs. No chance to activate her own flare. She had sight a little longer — or thought she did at least. Not that it mattered. All she could see was a mass of black, all around her.

The sensation of cold spread through her body. Just like at the hospital. But there at least there had been _some_ light to see by. Here it was all one uniform blackness.

A warm weight touched her shoulder. The cold spreading through her body disappeared instantly. The blackness in front of her, while it was still all black, appeared to have some movement to it. Chloe turned her head to the side where the warmth was touching her.

Just for an instant, what she saw was like dense smoke or soot, swirling around a light source. The few streaks of light breaking through were painfully bright. Then Chloe blinked and saw Lucifer standing next to her, one hand on her shoulder. He motioned with his free hand, sending a burst of light into the shadows that did nothing but lend some definition to the roiling mass before it faded out.

Another flare hissed, and Constantine became visible on her other side. His voice rang out with the gibberish syllables of a spell. The light from the flare spread around the three of them in a circle. It started fading even before Constantine had finished his spell. He lit another flare without breaking rhythm. It took two more flares before the circle held. Within the circle, Chloe could see the concrete floor of the warehouse. Outside of it, there was nothing but darkness. Not even the door — only a few feet away — was visible.

Spell finished, Constantine swore while digging in his bag for more flares. Lucifer turned so his back was to her and picked off threads of shadow as they impinged on their circle. Chloe pulled the activation cord on her own flare and watched the burst of light incinerate a strand of darkness.

Chloe used the breathing room to ask the most important question. "What's happening?"

Constantine found another flare. He spoke a few words, then flung the flare into the darkness. The arc of its motion revealed again a mass of shadows, constantly in motion. The general movement shifted to follow the flare's path as it flew. "We've got a bigger problem than we thought." The flare extinguished even before it landed. "There's not a few souls floating about in here. There's hundreds."

"Thousands," Lucifer corrected almost absentmindedly. He was still using flashes of light from his ring to keep the darkness at bay. "These aren't souls wandering through by accident. Someone planned this. That must have been Mr. Getty's warning."

"Why wasn't this happening at the hospital?" Chloe asked.

"The hospital is well lit, with lots of passersby. Any soul coming through there would either find a host or dissipate in short order. Not so here." Lucifer moved to deal with a shadow that had almost reached Chloe's back. She could see him wince as he did so. "And this portal is older. More so on the timescale of Hell."

"We can't leave it like this," Constantine said. He lit another flare and made complicated hand movements over it. The light went to reinforce the circle. "We won't even be able to get out at this rate."

Lucifer's arms fell to his side. He drew back his shoulders. He'd gone pale. "I could get you out of here," he told Chloe.

"And leave Constantine to deal with all of this on his own?" That didn't seem right. And for all that he was slinging around magic like no tomorrow, Constantine did look outmatched.

"You'd be safe."

"Can we stop schmoozing and do something?" Constantine interrupted as he pulled another flare. "I'll run out of these flares sooner, not later."

By now, Chloe was regretting not taking Lucifer's suggestion that she stay behind. But that was in the past. And letting Lucifer carry her off was out of the question. "What _can_ we do?" Chloe had her gun, but…"Is shooting these things going to accomplish anything?"

"No." Lucifer's reply was short. "There is nothing for you to hit." He turned around and summoned more light between his fingers. Another shadow dissipated. Lucifer grimaced.

"Enough light will destroy them, by the looks of it," Constantine said. "If only we had more light." He looked at Lucifer meaningfully. "Any ideas?"

"Very funny, John," Lucifer said through his teeth.

"I'm not laughing, _Lightbringer_.

Lucifer growled at Constantine. For a second, it looked as if he was going to turn on the sorcerer. But then Lucifer's shoulders dropped and he nodded, resigned. He turned and swept one arm outside their circle. The light from his ring didn't penetrate past his fingertips. He repeated the movement until there did appear to be a reduction in thickness of the darkness. Enough that the floor became visible, strewn with debris of what had once been storage racks.

Lucifer stepped out of the circle into the space he'd created for himself. He bent down to pick up a piece of the debris — a length of scaffolding about as long as Chloe's arm. He stood back up and settled his shoulders, like he was steeling himself for something. His chest rose as he took a deep breath. Then he drew his shoulders back and let out his breath. As he did, he winced in pain.

Behind him, a pair of wings appeared.

They were white and faintly glowing, like the feathers she'd found. But also like the feathers, they sported brown stains.

Constantine had seen it, too. "What happened to him?" he asked. "Wasn't like that last time."

"I think he got shot," Chloe replied. Had that happened when he'd flown her away from Marcus's shootout? That had to have hurt. Was still hurting, from Lucifer's movements just now. Lucifer had always healed quickly. Even if he got hurt one day, he'd always be fine within the week. And those were just the cases where Chloe had _seen_ him get hurt. He'd bounced back from _dying_ within minutes, from Lucifer's own accounts.

Constantine frowned. "Bullets should have bounced off," he said. He took a breath to say more, but then had to redirect his focus to keep the darkness at bay.

Lucifer didn't wait out the conversation. With the dark starting to swirl around him, taking back the space he'd cleared, he folded his hands over the piece of metal he'd picked up. Now Lucifer bowed his head. If Chloe hadn't known better, she might have thought he was praying.

The faint glow of his wings intensified, blurring the edges of the brown patches. The swirls of darkness around Lucifer retreated. Or had they dissolved?

In the distance there seemed to be a suggestion of increased movement in the darkness. But the immediate area around Constantine's circle and Lucifer's wings had lightened.

Then the light from Lucifer's wings started to flow inward, into Lucifer. Or rather, into his hands. His wings now appeared a mottled grey. But pure, harsh blue-tinged light leaked from between Lucifer's fingers.

He pulled his hands apart along the length of scaffolding. Where his hands touched the metal, it was no longer — well — metal. Between his hands, Lucifer held a rod of concentrated light. He opened his eyes, but they were no longer their usual dark brown. Instead, they shone with the same kind of light he held in his hands. He nodded at her once, then jumped into the air.

The hangar had a lot of height, but still a single beat of those giant wings took Lucifer to the ceiling. Chloe could see the corrugated sheet that Lucifer hit — the rod he held gave off that much light.

A mass of shadows — souls — followed him upward, though they couldn't rise as high as him. As Lucifer started his descent again, angling away from Chloe and Constantine, the center of that mass of souls moved along Lucifer's path. He drew most of them to himself.

When Lucifer landed, the shades converged on him immediately. Lucifer was ready for them. He swept the rod in a flat arc, catching several of the dark shapes in their approach. As the rod touched them, their forms dissipated. His wings swept out and then forward, bringing more shadows into his range. They suffered a similar fate.

The shadows around Constantine's circle retreated further. Chloe could see most of the hangar again, dim as it was with only minimal light from the grimy windows high up near the ceiling. The souls that had been swirling around the three of them had followed Lucifer instead.

Souls reached out for light, Lucifer had said. The light from that rod of his, lethal as it was, was much, much brighter than anything else in the hangar. Brighter than the still diminishing light of the magic circle.

Brighter even than the fresh flare Constantine activated next to her, which dimmed as he started conjuring with it, strengthening the circle again and spreading its illumination through the room. Chloe pulled out her second flare, intending to use it to keep the shadows away from Constantine while he worked his magic.

With Lucifer drawing most of the shadowy mass's attention, it was apparent that most of these souls weren't actively trying to fight. They just stood — floated — outside the circle of light from the flares. Some stayed near the circle long enough that they disappeared on their own. Occasionally one did enter the circle, only to flow directly into the light of a flare.

The souls surrounding Lucifer were different, at least for a while. They were in true combat, trying to duck past the rod of light and evading the broad sweeps from Lucifer's wings. The passive ones were only faint, nondescript outlines. But the ones fighting Lucifer and managing to evade his attacks — they still had some definition. A Roman centurion's helmet crest rose above the crowd, and for a brief moment, Lucifer's rod was blocked by a medieval knight's shield. Then it swept through another shadow with the outline of a jackbooted uniform. A shape in an elaborate flowing robe only just avoided that sweep.

Lucifer kept fighting. Chloe hadn't seen him exert himself like this before. Even when she'd seen him in combat before, his movements had seemed effortless. Not here. Now, he was fighting a lot more opponents, but that didn't seem like it should cause so much strain. Dissipating one of these dark souls took him no effort. Again and again, as soon as the rod touched them, they were gone.

But he was generating that light from somewhere. Sustaining it had to take effort. Lucifer was breathing hard even as he kept up the slashing and sweeping.

"Look there," Constantine said beside Chloe. He was pointing somewhere away from Lucifer, to a spot where some racks still stood upright. Just in front of them, a smoky swirl spewed forth new shadows. Now that Chloe knew what to look for she could also see the flow from this spot to where Lucifer was fighting. "That must be the portal."

"So, that's why we're still surrounded. They're being replaced."

"Yep."

"Can we do something about it? Close the portal?"

"Not while there are still souls coming through, we can't." Constantine shook his head. "But I might have a temporary solution. Stem the tide, as it were." He paused while gauging the distance. "If we can get closer."

Lucifer had culled the more active fighters. The passive souls kept coming. They didn't try to evade Lucifer's weapon, or his wings. Instead they allowed themselves to be swept into the path of oblivion. The crush of souls that still continued to gather pushed the innermost circle ever closer.

Lucifer noticed the lack of resistance and slowed his movements. Still the shadows gathered around him, as if throwing themselves at the light source. Lucifer halted entirely, shoulders rising and falling with deep, panting breaths as he did nothing but hold out the rod. More souls approached him to fall into the light.

A large black mass still surrounded Lucifer, even with many of the souls already eliminated and more disappearing every second.

"Whatever we can do, let's do it," Chloe told Constantine.

Constantine nodded and dug a dozen flares out of his bag. He activated the first one and threw it outside their circle. "Come on, then," he said and stepped into the smaller pool of light provided by the flare. As soon as he got there, he activated another flare and threw it a few feet farther. Chloe followed, hopping from one bright spot to the next, closer to the hole in reality that was still spilling souls toward Lucifer.

Meanwhile, Lucifer had tired. He wasn't even holding out his weapon any more. Instead, he was leaning on it to stay upright. His wings were no longer working to sweep souls into range. They were folded close against his back.

He slumped further. The light from the rod faded back through his hands into his wings, which regained their faint glow. Without the space created by the light from the rod, the souls around Lucifer pressed in tighter.

Lucifer fell to his knees. The darkness surrounding him overwhelmed him, and he disappeared under the flood of souls rushing toward him. Chloe shouted his name, but it had no effect.

He went down.

* * *

**Intermezzo**

The doors to the morgue loom in front of me. The stranger is leaning against them, just as he leaned against the wall next to the door to my apartment. Had he moved? Had I? "Why are you here?" I ask.

The stranger examines me, head to toe. "Why are you?" He pushes away from the wall so he can walk around me. He waves a hand, twirling his finger to indicate our surroundings. "You brought us here. You must have a reason."

"My mother is in there," I say, as if that's important. "What do you mean _I_ brought us here?"

"You," the stranger says with emphasis, "are in your own personal Hell." He looks around. "And it's remarkably mundane, for a torture chamber. Watching your mother's corpse? Is that truly what hurts so much?"

What he says is true. I don't know _how_ I know that, but I do. If I close my eyes and think back, make myself see them, I can see the thousands of times I've walked through these doors and seen the sheet drawn back on my mother's body. But the anguish is fresh every single time. So is the agony of the grill of a car driving through my spine; of the airbag going off in my face. That's to come, right now. I shudder in anticipation.

But I can't do anything about it. All those times, things happened the same way. So it will be this time. And the stranger still hasn't answered my initial question. "If this is my Hell, why are you here?"

The stranger coughs and pulls back his lips to show teeth. "Some people are trying to be clever. They dumped me in here and closed the exits. Doors that should be open to me are closed."

I look at the door to the morgue. That one isn't closed. It also doesn't lead out of here. It's part of the cycle. But if there are doors, then that means… "There really is a way out of here?"

A nod. "There always is."

"Can you show me where?" Maybe breaking the loop _is_ possible. My stomach starts tingling. Is this what hope feels like?

The stranger looks down on me and shakes his head. "You have to find it on your own, I'm afraid. Even if could take you out, you wouldn't like where those doors are going."

"It might be better than this, over and over again." I might be able to find my way to my mother. The real one, not this illusion of a body.

The stranger huffs a laugh. "Only if you enjoy literal cut-throat politics." He wipes his clean hands on his trousers. "And don't mind getting your hands dirty at them, either." He pauses, thinking. "I… _can_ make it stop. Entirely."  
"Evidently." The stranger casts a glance back at the morgue. The door has just opened from the inside. The familiar-looking policewoman checks outside. The stranger sighs. "Perhaps I could… nudge things." He holds out a hand. "Come on."

That was the same offer I had already turned down once. I don't _want_ it to just stop. I wanted the loop to break. That was the only stop that was acceptable. "I need to keep going. I want see my mother again."

The stranger frowns at me. "Is seeing a dead body that important to you?"

"It's the only place I can still see her. All I want is another chance."

"So take it." The stranger makes another hand motion, indicating the universe at large. "This is Hell. What makes you think you're limited to any specific time period?" He steps away from the doors. "Just go back further. Find your mother there."

"I don't know how."

"Evidently." The stranger casts a glance back at the morgue. The door has just opened from the inside. The familiar-looking policewoman checks outside. The stranger sighs. "Perhaps I could… nudge things." He holds out a hand. "Come on."

As I take his hand, the world around me blurs. When it comes into focus again, we are no longer in front of the morgue. We're standing outside my childhood home, the one I ran out of at seventeen. My clothes are different, too. More like what I used to wear when I was younger.

The stranger lets go of my hand. "Here we are." He pulls at his vest, and sniffs. "I don't think my pesky captors will have thought to close the doors here. Given where they dumped me, I think they expected I wouldn't fight too hard to get out. More fool they." He nods at the door in front of us. "There's your second chance. Good luck." There's a flash of light, and the stranger is gone.

I face the door. Time to make a change.


	11. Chapter 11

Constantine checked on Lucifer and swore. Instead of throwing the flare he'd just activated, he conjured another circle of light with it. Once that was done, he started a different spell.

He waved his arms in circles while he spoke — well, shouted — a long Latin chant. Partway through, his eyes started glowing. Not the warm glow, nor even harsh light of Lucifer's wings, but instead the glow of hot embers. A fiery sigil appeared on his forehead as the spell progressed. The sigil unfolded itself into twisting lines of fire in front of Constantine, moving closer toward the portal. As the twisting lines expanded, they formed into an equal and opposite portal that seemed to suck the souls back in.

"What is that?" Chloe asked.

"Portal to Hell," Constantine answered. "I'm holding on to a loop here, so this won't hold long. I hope your boyfriend isn't out of tricks yet."

With the flow of souls redirected, the press of shadows around Lucifer had lightened. He was visible again, crouching on one knee. He leaned on the rod to keep upright. Slowly, he spread his wings. Their faint glow was barely strong enough to pierce the dark mass around them.

Then that glow intensified, spreading the same kind of harsh light that had come from the rod. Soon the light was breaking through the souls gathered around Lucifer with ease. They seemed to be recoiling from it now, no longer so eager to destroy themselves. Lucifer spread his wings wide, encompassing all of the souls within his reach.

"You might want to look away," Constantine said, but Chloe couldn't tear her eyes from the sight. The light that emanated from Lucifer's wings was still brightening. The dark stains on his feathers were bleached out by the glare. Chloe squinted.

Looking into that light felt strange. Like the light went straight through her, exposing all her flaws. Every wrong step, every erroneous decision came back to her. Could Chloe have done better? She should never have done _Hot Tub High School_. It had only made her a bigger target for paparazzi and made it so much harder to build any credibility as a police officer. Her credibility problems had both led to the Palmetto disaster and made the aftermath worse. And if she hadn't accused Malcolm or looked deeper into Pierce's past… Trixie would have been safer, would never have been stripped of her innocence so soon.

But these thoughts were silly. – Filming _Hot Tub High School_had just been some money at the time, and ultimately it was a harmless piece of fun to watch. Even if she didn't have fun filming it, there had been no way to know that beforehand. Malcolm _had_ been guilty. Not accusing him would only have made things worse and might still have exposed Trixie to harm as Graham would have used both her and her daughter to get to Dan. Pierce had been her superior, someone she was supposed to trust, was encouraged to trust by the organization they both served. That he had misled her was on him, not her.

No, whatever judgment she might be offered, Chloe would take responsibility for her actions. She had always done what she felt was right, with the knowledge she had at the time. She could protect everyone best like that.

The light from Lucifer's wings was changing. It was still bright enough to hurt, but it was no longer so harsh. Instead it became warmer, welcoming and beautiful. Like sunlight on a clear winter morning. The souls around Lucifer were as drawn by this light as Chloe's gaze was. Even as Constantine's portal thinned the flow, those souls that remained were flooding toward Lucifer faster than ever.

Lucifer couldn't stay upright any longer. He dropped the rod and used his hands to keep his torso off the floor. Still, his wings gave off their light

The black mass that had been spewing souls faded and collapsed in on itself. The last souls expelled were quickly sucked into Constantine's fiery portal, which closed when Constantine dropped his spell. "Bloody hell." He walked over to the original portal and checked the spot, surprise on his face. "That shouldn't have worked this well."

With no more souls coming in to replenish those dissolved by the light, Lucifer was soon no longer overrun. He lay on the floor, wings spread wide. Chloe went to him as fast as her legs could carry her.

Lucifer was getting back to his knees and using the piece of scaffolding to push himself up further. His wings were still spread wide across the floor, a faintly glowing carpet of feathers. The stains on them were gone. Lucifer paused when Chloe halted before him, leaving him kneeling at her feet. He looked up at her, and she could see tears in his eyes. But he smiled at her anyway.

"Are you OK?" Chloe asked as she held out a hand.

Lucifer considered the extended hand for a few moments before taking it. As Chloe pulled him upright, his wings first folded back, then disappeared. "As well as can be expected, given the circumstances." He gave her a close look. "And you, Detective?"

"I just stood there and watched, Lucifer. Nothing even came close. I'm fine." Lucifer straightened his clothes, still looking more than a little pensive. "You don't look OK."

"I'm fine, Detective. It's just…." Lucifer took a deep breath. "In all the centuries in Hell, no one ever thanked me for anything. Every one of those souls was thankful, even as they dissolved into oblivion." He blinked a few times and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a little overwhelming."

Lucifer looked over at where Constantine was still studying the spot where the portal had been. "And it looks like we're not done yet."

Chloe joined Constantine. Behind her, Lucifer picked up the piece of scaffolding before he followed her.

With the portal closed, Constantine seemed to be studying a patch of bare concrete. "Is it over?" Chloe asked.

"No," said Constantine and Lucifer together. Constantine shot a look at Lucifer, then continued. "Can't close one hole with another. I did nothing that could close this one yet." He gestured at the spot where the portal had been. There was nothing to see.. Then again, Chloe hadn't seen anything at the hospital, either. "Those souls didn't stop coming because of what I did. Whoever or whatever was sending these souls through from Hell stopped the flow." He shook his head. "This'll start again at some point."

"Can you close it?" Chloe wondered. "Like at the hospital?"

Constantine checked his pockets and bag, pulling out four flares. He grimaced. "I can paper over the crack." He gestured behind him, implying the hospital. "This afternoon, that was enough. But so much came through here, this isn't a weak spot any more. It's a proper hole." He shook his head, then looked at Lucifer sideways. "And whatever I do from this end, it'll stay a hole."

Lucifer looked Constantine straight in the eye. "No." He shook a finger at Constantine for emphasis. "Never, John."

Chloe felt like she was missing part of this conversation. "What?"

"John is suggesting that the best way to close this breach is to close it from the other side," Lucifer explained.

Go to Hell, was what Constantine had suggested, then. And from Lucifer's response.… "No, no way." She was just starting to get to grips with all the crazy that had been going on around her — well, around Lucifer. And now he had to leave? That wasn't fair.

Lucifer blinked in surprise at her words. Then his eyes softened and his lips turned upward in the slightest of smiles. "I didn't know you still cared, Detective."

"Of course I care, Lucifer. Or I wouldn't _be_ here." Chloe turned back to Constantine. "There must be another way."

Constantine looked from her to Lucifer and back. "Brilliant. We all care for each other. It's love and sunlight and kisses and whatnot." He swept out an arm over the location of the portal. "But when these things start coming out again, there's not going to be much left to care about."

Lucifer looked from Chloe to Constantine, his expression turning to thunder. He remained silent for a long time, but Chloe saw his eyes moving from her to the location of the portal, to Constantine, to the door, and finally the ceiling. The anger faded from his expression. Instead, he looked pensive. Lucifer thinking things through… now that was a new thing. "Lucifer, if you tell us what's going on in your head, maybe we can help."

Lucifer's eyes went to her and stayed on her. He looked her over from head to toe and back. His expression changed again. His shoulders twitched back, then dropped. He took a breath. "John… has a point." His eyes still didn't leave Chloe, but he gestured at the portal with his free hand. "This is just a respite. If we don't stop this, more souls will come through. They might have been contained here so far, but they won't stay that way indefinitely."

"How many can come through, anyway? Isn't there a way we _could_ contain them here?"

"We could park him right here forever," Constantine butted in while gesturing at Lucifer. "That might work."

Lucifer winced at the suggestion. Chloe shook her head. "That's not an option either, Constantine." She turned back to Lucifer. "What would happen if we left the portal unchecked?"

Lucifer put one end of the metal bar he was still holding on the ground, then leaned on it as if he were a knight, resting on a sword after a battle. He sighed. "Reese warned me. He was offered his freedom on the condition that he would summon a demon when he got out. That means that in the best case, a soul gets through, finds a body quickly and manages to summon the demon sending them. That puts a demon on earth, unchecked."

"Right." Long before Chloe realized how deep this rabbit hole went, she'd been in pursuit of one rabbit that couldn't be called white by any stretch of the imagination: the demon that had been stalking Constantine and butchering people left and right. Such a bloody scenario didn't bear repetition. "So what's the _worst_ case?"

"None of the souls coming through manages to summon the demon, and more and more souls come through. Eventually they'll get out and start taking bodies."

"Killing people."

"Yes."

Death either way. Chloe didn't see much to prefer in either scenario. But she didn't want Lucifer to leave, either. "So that hole needs to close. And _you_ have to do it?" If there was really no other way out, then….

Constantine was studying her face almost as intently as Lucifer was. Eventually, he, too sighed. "Someone has to go to Hell and close this thing." Another pause. "I can get myself pulled down there, do what I can." He grimaced. "Look at me, volunteering."

Lucifer snorted. "And what are you going to do once you get there, John?" He held up a hand to forestall Constantine's reply. "I don't doubt your ability to create a ruckus among the higher level demons. You've done that plenty before."

Now he turned toward Constantine. "But once you're in Hell, you lose your biggest bargaining chip." Lucifer gestured to the portal. "And if you're, ah, tied up with that, this hole still won't be closed."

He faced Chloe again. "I can close this hole, find the demon responsible and deal with them." He smiled, but there wasn't any humor in it. "I'll be back before you even notice." He held up a finger. "And I might have help. One second."

He dug out his phone and hit a quick-dial button. "Maze? If you still want to go back to Hell…."

Lucifer trailed off and held the phone away from his ear. Chloe could hear Maze shouting through the speaker, although she couldn't get the exact words. Some profanity seemed to be involved.

Lucifer put the phone back to his hear "Yes, _all right_ Maze, I understand. Please just… take care, then." He put the phone back in his pocket. "That's me on my own, then." He considered the piece of scaffolding he was still holding like it was a sword. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around the piece before presenting it to Chloe. "You should put this somewhere safe."

"Why?" The scaffolding was just a piece of aluminum, by the weight of it. Not even steel. You wouldn't even be able to hit anyone seriously with this.

Constantine supplied the explanation here. "It's been used to channel souls into oblivion. If it's used wrong, it'll channel _your_ soul right out of your body."

Lucifer nodded, then pointed at Constantine. "And that means _he_ should never get his hands on it, Detective." He smiled, a little more genuinely now. "If Miss Lopez's imaginary friend is still around, she'll know what to do with it."

Chloe hugged the jacket to herself and nodded. Lucifer knew about Ella's ghost? Had they ever discussed the subject? Then again, he was also on good terms with the forensic scientist himself. So maybe Ella had confided in Lucifer, too.

More proof they weren't done talking to each other yet. Damn it.

Lucifer's hands twitched, but he kept them to his sides. "I _will_ come back, Detective. You have my word." He turned to Constantine. "That's another favor you owe me, John."

Then his wings appeared from nowhere, spread wide. A single beat, and Lucifer was gone.

"Don't I know it," Constantine said to empty air.

* * *

**Intermezzo**

"I hate you!"

With those words, my old front door slams behind me. And I'm on the streets. Again.  
It's the same every time. I walk in to find my mother waiting for me with an angry expression. We get into an argument. And I can't stop the anger from coming out. Even though I want to.

I wanted this. I wanted a second chance to apologize, to make amends. And I see my mother over and over again. But both of us are always angry, and the fight starts before I'm even through the door.  
I still remember the image of my mother, lying dead. But I never get to the morgue anymore. My life passes in flashes of hard work, of sleeping rough, of sleepless nights to finish my studies while working full-time on minimum wage. And I don't even get the satisfaction of the graduation – the certificate arrives in the mail while I'm at my other job. I find it when I come home to spend another night alone, staring at my phone.

The stranger who helped me took the one thing from me that I still had and disappeared. I haven't seen him again.

I walk up to my apartment. My phone buzzes.

So it starts again.


	12. Chapter 12

Lucifer did not return before Chloe knew it.

Constantine performed his stopgap spell and accompanied Chloe back to the police station. He asked to leave before they both entered the station, however. He claimed he wanted to avoid further entanglements. Something about not pissing off the Lord of Hell by hanging around his girlfriend.

Chloe's head was too full at that point with possible scenarios to explain the whole situation. She let Constantine go. She wouldn't be able to explain where Lucifer had disappeared to — but that was the easiest thing to handwave. Lucifer went whenever and wherever he pleased and never told anyone about it. This was just one more time.

The bodies, however, and the damage in the warehouse…. Constantine might have information to add, but so far he hadn't shown any willingness to adapt his statements for general consumption. Chloe had spent too much time being ostracized already to want to be marked as crazy for claiming supernatural influences. The truth was just too far out there. She spent the rest of that day staring at her computer screen, trying to think of something, _anything_ to type, only to go home with a headache.

The next day, the ME reports arrived on both her case and Linda's intruder. Both had been ruled natural causes — heart failure, case closed. In some ways it was a relief, because the difficult story became little more than routine form-filling. Chloe spent her day doing that and other paperwork, then left early enough to pick Trixie up from school.

That evening, after putting Trixie to bed, it was hard to keep her mind off Lucifer's jacket and its contents. "Keep it safe," Lucifer had asked. Nobody knew this thing existed. Nobody knew it was at her house. But Trixie might stumble across it at any time, and who knew what might happen then. She'd have to find a safer place for it.

The following day brought inspiration. Without any fresh cases, the Captain saddled her with reviewing old cases due to be archived. By lunchtime, her desk was covered with random assorted junk and archival boxes full of files. Once she'd completed the paperwork, these boxes would disappear into long-term storage, most likely never to be seen again. Unless someone knew to look. Now that was a thought.

Chloe drove home during her lunch break and brought the piece of scaffolding back with her. She removed it from Lucifer's jacket and wrapped it in a large evidence bag. This went into one of the boxes — one for an innocuous case, where the culprit had been arrested and convicted on overwhelming evidence. She'd tell Ella about it later, as Lucifer suggested. Maybe over some drinks. Maybe over a _lot_ of drinks.

With that specific box gone, Chloe had one less thing to take care of. But that meant she could focus more on her remaining worry. Lucifer.

"Before she knew it" might have been an exaggeration. She couldn't imagine a scale for the kind of task Lucifer had set himself, but closing a Hell portal hadn't _sounded_ like it could be done in a flash. And he'd been gone for far longer before without her worrying. Nevertheless. Chloe hadn't known what Lucifer was up to at that point.

Chloe was almost expecting Lucifer to walk through the door at any moment, with coffee and a quip for the officer whose path he'd happen to cross on his way over to her desk. Not that that had been the rule lately. But with the two of them starting to talk again, he might have picked up that routine.

Chloe left work early again, to pick up Trixie from school and help her pack for a weekend with Dan.

* * *

**Intermezzo**

Working retail is Hell. Literally, in my case. I know that much.

But it seems like I don't have a choice. My life repeats itself over and over again, and a lot of it is spent working minimum wage retail jobs. Especially early on, when I still have to earn my qualifications.

I walked out of my mother's house because she was trying to control me. I escaped that much. But I didn't escape anything else. And if I'm being completely honest – I miss my mother. Just a little.

I drag a week's worth of store uniforms into the laundry facilities of the building where I clean two nights a week. I'm not supposed to use them, but it's the only place I can do laundry free. I need to wash my uniforms _somewhere_. And usually there's nobody around. Not this time.

"You!" I say as I recognize the stranger. He doesn't belong here. He has never belonged here. He has only invaded this space and made whatever Hell this was, _worse_. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking up on loose ends," the stranger states. "I would have thought you had moved on already. But here you are. You haven't reached a détente with your mother yet?"

"How could I?" I dump my laundry on the table. "I only get that one meeting, and it always ends in anger." I approach the stranger so I can poke a finger in his chest. "You ruined everything."

The stranger huffs ruefully. "As I am known to do on occasion, yes." He takes a breath. "But this one is on you, I'm afraid. _You_ want to talk to your mother." He cocks his head. "So why don't you?"

"I _just_ said." I start digging through my bag to find the soap I brought. My phone tumbles out onto the floor. I grab after it, but my fingers miss it. Of course. "I only get the one meeting."

The stranger nods. "And that is the only way you could possibly talk to her?" He picks up my phone and checks it over. "Don't these things allow for voice calls?"

That leaves me speechless. The thought hadn't even occurred to me. "I…. I don't have her number." That was true, too.

The stranger shoots me a brilliant smile. "Well. That, at least, I can fix." He unlocks the phone and punches in some numbers. Then he hands it back to me. "The number is in there. Whenever you want to use it."

Right. That's helpful. Giving me a phone number, but still leaving me to struggle with everything else on my own. "That's it? That's all I'm getting?"

The stranger frowns as me. As if he doesn't understand. "What else do you need?"

"Not having to work three jobs would be helpful, for a start."

The stranger turns his head and looks me up and down. "Just giving you that might be dangerously close to showing you a way out," he starts after a few seconds. "And you wouldn't like where that door led, I don't think." He picks up a newspaper someone left behind and starts leafing through it.

It gives me the time to study him, too. It looks like he's still in the same suit – sans jacket – that he'd worn before. And "worn" is the right term. Whatever he's been doing before coming to check up on my "loose end", it put his clothes through the wringer. "Where have you been, anyway? You look terrible."

"I believe I talked about cut-throat politics before," the stranger replies, not looking up from the paper. Although he does swipe his free hand across what's left of his vest. "It is destructive on the wardrobe, isn't it? But this is all I have at the moment." He goes through a few more pages of the paper before he looks up. "I could take you forward again, to the point in your life where you are past this." The sweep of his arm takes in the laundry room. "But that would limit the time you have to contact your mother."

"No."

"I thought so." The stranger nods. He folds the newspaper over and drops it on my bag. "Well, looks like you'll be busy for a while yet, and I have promises to keep. Good luck."

There's a flash of light, blindingly bright. When I can see again, the stranger is gone. Later, when I'm packing my laundry, I find the newspaper he left on top of my bag. There's a job advert. It's for a starting position. Temporary work, but it's in the field I'm studying and the hours are better than the store I'm currently working at. Hey. It's worth a try.


	13. Chapter 13

The following day — a day off from work — left Chloe to rattle around in her apartment on her own. She caught up — actually _caught up_ on laundry and dishes, did another round of groceries and somehow got to late afternoon. She was considering getting out the cleaning supplies when her doorbell rang.

It was Linda, looking a little nervous and fiddling with a bottle of wine. "Hey, Chloe." She cleared her throat and stood up a little straighter. "I heard about what happened. And that Lucifer still isn't back. I figured you could use some moral support." She held up the bottle. "Or at least a drink with friends."

Chloe tried to smile. "Thank you, Linda, but…."

But she hadn't told anything to anyone. Constantine had promised not to blab. And he'd had no cause to go back to Linda — he hadn't known she was anything but a therapist. So… Chloe switched tack mid-sentence. "Who told you?"

"Ah." Linda took deep breath. "That would be why I used 'friends' in the plural." She took a step back and extended her free hand to someone Chloe couldn't see through the door. "I think we could all use a friend right now." As she spoke, Linda turned her head, including both Chloe and the unseen stranger.

Who wasn't so much of a stranger. Linda beckoned another time, and Maze stepped into view. She regarded Chloe evenly. "I still don't do apologies, Decker. But Linda is right. We both need all the friends we can get."

Maze. Her former roommate. Who had been close to Lucifer since… forever. And _who Lucifer had called_ with an offer to take her back to Hell. Well, it explained where Linda heard the story from, all right.

Maze, who was the demon she had always called herself. The demon _Lucifer_ had always claimed she was. Violent, sex-obsessed, and more than a little volatile. Witness the situation that had led to her walking out on their joint lease.

But also a loyal friend, when she felt herself supported. Chloe had had plenty of proof of that, too.

"You don't owe me anything, Maze. Least of all an apology." Chloe opened the door to let the two of them in. She put a hand on Maze's arm when she was on the doorstep. "You _do_ owe Trixie one, though." When Maze nodded hesitantly, Chloe stepped aside. "Thank you, both, for coming."

"How are you holding up?" Linda asked when all three of them were provisioned with a glass of wine and seated. Chloe had taken her favorite spot on the sofa. Linda had taken the other end. Maze lounged in one of the nearby chairs.

"I'm fine, really," Chloe started, but Linda held up a hand.

"As a friend, I'd like to remind you of what you said to me three days ago." She leaned forward so she could take Chloe's hand. "It's OK to be upset sometimes." Linda smiled and looked over to Maze. "I had my proper breakdown together with a friend." She turned back to Chloe, putting on her "therapist" face for a second. "You're not at work anymore, and your friends are here. Now it's your turn to stop being professional."

Linda withdrew her hand. She still sat straight upright on the sofa, feet neatly planted on the floor and her hands in her lap. She might be here as a friend, but the therapist habits were clearly deeply ingrained.

Chloe let herself observe that, and then tried to follow Linda's advice. She had to stop thinking as a police officer, stop analyzing the world for cause and effect. Instead, she needed to have that breakdown and just … feel. But nothing was coming. She let out a sigh. "There's… still so much to process." She sank against the sofa's backrest, resting her neck on the soft cushions. "I can't find a place where I can even start putting it together."

"Heaven and Hell, angels and—" Chloe paused to wave her hand at Maze. "—demons. And whatever was going on with Marcus and Lucifer that I still don't entirely understand. What's it all about?" She swung her arms in a circle to indicate the universe in general.

Maze leaned forward. "You," she said simply. She mimicked Chloe's gesture. "The rest doesn't matter." She shrugged. "Look out for number one."

Linda smiled proudly at Maze. "What I think Maze might be trying to say," she continued. "Is that it doesn't have to be about anything but where _you_ fit into all of this."

"But I'm not alone here," Chloe said. "Even if nothing else—" And there was such a lot of _else._ "—I've got Trixie to think about."

"Sure," Linda agreed. "But apart from your daughter — most of it is out of your control. So, how do you make that fit into _your_ life? It's not about how your life fits into all of that." She pushed her glasses higher up her nose. "It's quite an important distinction."

Linda turned her head to Maze again. "To me, it was important to realize that, demon, angel, goddess — they are all people. I don't have to treat them any differently than I would treat other _people_." She took a deep breath. "Uh… unless I want to. Because I want to treat them like … more than that." There was a slight hesitation before Linda spoke her final words, and she glanced over to Maze again. Maze returned Linda's look this time. Linda smiled at Maze and then turned back to Chloe. "In the end, the question is: 'What do…."

Linda didn't get to finish her question. As she spoke, light flared outside. It was bright enough to saturate the entire room. But it wasn't the cold blue light of a lightning flash — instead it was warm, as if the sun had come through the clouds. But that wouldn't have happened from an east-facing window, and not at this time of day.

The flash also didn't last long. Almost before Chloe had time to realize all of that, it was gone again. She jumped to her feet and went to the door. Something was happening outside. Maybe she could still see what had happened.

_Lucifer_ was what had happened. He was crouching on the path to her apartment, as if he'd gone down to cushion his landing. Chloe got to the door just in time to see his wings — still shining even if the glare had faded — disappear behind his back.

Lucifer pushed himself up slowly at first. Then he raised his head and saw her, and he was on his feet before Chloe could blink again. Two long strides and he was right in front of her, looking down at her, eyes wide as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

His hand came up. He reached out until he touched Chloe's cheek so, so softly. She barely felt it. But then he wrapped his arms around her, catching her in a hug that crushed Chloe to Lucifer's chest. He took a deep breath. "You're OK."

"Of course I'm fine, Lucifer," Chloe managed to get out. She pushed a little against his chest, where he'd trapped her arms. It was like pushing a wall. "But I can't move."

"Oh." Lucifer let her go and took a step back. His left hand slid along her right arm as he backed away, and once he reached her hand, kept hold of it. As if he wasn't ready to let her go again. But he didn't say anything else.

He was still wearing the clothes he'd left in. But they looked like they'd been through…. She stifled a laugh. Yes. That was exactly what they'd been through. The suit vest was threadbare and missing its buttons. The shirt had fared better, in that most of the buttons were still there. But it was wrinkled and stained with who-knew-what.

The silence was stretching. Someone should say _something._ "Welcome back," Chloe managed. She tugged with her right hand. "Come on in."

Lucifer followed her inside. As soon as he came through the door, Linda was on her feet. "Lucifer!" she called out and started moving toward the two of them.

But before she could reach Lucifer, Lucifer had spotted Maze. He steered Chloe aside and put himself between her and Maze. He didn't say anything, but his posture changed. Now his shoulders no longer hung wearily. Instead he made himself look even taller than he already was, ready to throw a punch — or catch one.

Linda stopped halfway to Lucifer and looked from one to the other, confused.

Maze remained seated. She kept her eyes on Lucifer and her hands on the arms of the chair. "I'm here as a friend, Lucifer."

Lucifer kept up the protective stance for a few more heartbeats, but then he relaxed — marginally. "Sorry, Maze. It's been a while." He made his way over to the couch. He picked up one of the glasses of wine and threw it back before sinking into the couch. "I'm not as immune to Hell as I used to be."

Chloe seated herself next to Lucifer and took his hand again. Now she could feel that it was shaking. Maybe he was finally allowing himself to relax a little. "Lucifer, what happened? Where have you been?"

Lucifer had turned his head as soon as she had started to speak. He frowned at her. "Hell." He tilted his head to the side a little. "I believe this was clear from our last conversation?"

Chloe tried to laugh, at least a little. "Yeah, that was clear." She put a hand on his vest and, when Lucifer didn't make a move to stop her, tugged on it to straighten it a little. "But you also said you'd be done in no time. It's been three days. What happened?"

Lucifer looked at her, eyes wide. He didn't speak for several seconds. "Three days?" His eyelids drooped. He let out a breath. "It's been a bit longer than that for me." The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. He was trying to smile. "I had a few things to do."

"How long?" was the immediate question, but Chloe didn't dare ask it. Instead, she went for reassurance. "But it's over now, right?"

Silence. Then, Lucifer looked away. He cleared his throat. A deep breath. Lucifer's eyes went over the other wine glasses on the coffee table, but he didn't move to take one of them. His head dropped. Chloe saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed.

Only then, finally, did Lucifer start talking again. Chloe had to strain to hear what he said even though she was sitting next to him. "It's not over." His hand moved across his knee, toward hers. Chloe extended her hand and Lucifer took it, entwining their fingers. He took another deep breath. "I'm not done." He still wasn't looking up, but his voice was at least a little stronger.

He made a few more abortive attempts to start another sentence. Chloe wanted to interrupt, but she was afraid she might never get Lucifer to talk like this again. When she glanced over to Linda, she could see the therapist likewise biting her lip to keep silent. Maze was leaning forward, waiting for the next thing to be said.

Finally, Lucifer nodded to himself. "From the beginning, then." He turned to Chloe and squeezed her hand. "I found the demons responsible." He shook his head. "There wasn't just one. They were working together." His eyes widened, conveying the surprise that had engendered.

"I had expected a more powerful demon, one of those near the top of the hierarchy, to be playing games. "Not these—" His other hand came up in a dismissive gesture. "—small fry." Lucifer huffed. Then he sat back a little, frowning. "But they were strong enough, working together. They managed to trap me in a cell a few times."

He fell silent again. His eyes shifted to her, like he was drinking in the sight of her. What had happened there?

Lucifer sighed before he continued. "Demons don't work together like that, not without someone in charge. I dealt with the small fry easily enough when I got out of their trap — but I needed to find the ringleader or this could all happen again."

"Who were they?" Maze asked. "The small fry, I mean."

Lucifer frowned at her. "Some of your very distant cousins. They were young, as demons go."

Maze snorted. "And stupid, if they tried going up against you." She sat back and raised an eyebrow. "Even on your own."

"And _bored_, as it turns out." Lucifer ignored Maze's jibe. "They were being completely overlooked by the higher echelons. There were no ringleaders. They were just making trouble amongst themselves." His lips pulled down in distaste. "Because almost everyone with any kind of power to speak of was trying to get onto the throne. No time for anything else. Least of all keeping their subordinates busy."

He sat up straighter. "By the time I found this out, most of the lesser demons were assuming I'd come back permanently." His shoulders twitched upward in a little shrug. "It was one way to restore order. Such as it is."

"I thought you didn't want that," Chloe heard herself saying. He didn't, did he? He had been about as clear as Lucifer ever got, those three days ago that seemed like an eternity. He'd left Hell because he'd wanted _out_. So why let himself get drawn back in?

Lucifer gave a slow nod. "I thought… if I kept order long enough, I might be able to change some things. Things I didn't think I could change before." He turned to Chloe, and there was an upturn to his lips. "All those souls, rushing toward oblivion. They were so happy to get it." He played a little with her fingers. "I found more, who had lost any spark they might once have had. They thanked me as they went, too. After being tortured for so long, I guess oblivion must have felt like a relief."

His eyes went distant. "But there were also plenty who still had hope. Who might still get out. And I still couldn't destroy them." Another sigh. "That's where it gets complicated."

Linda, still listening with rapt attention, made a small sound in her throat, then clamped a hand over her mouth. Chloe decided to cover for her interruption. "Only there?" The story had been plenty complicated before. Lucifer's remark was almost a little funny – if the whole story didn't have the feel of a tragedy around it.

Lucifer looked at her from the corner of his eyes. He must have caught the slight hint of amusement. His chest shook once with a silent, huffed laugh, and he squeezed her hand again. "_More_ complicated then, Detective."

He sat back. "When Amenadiel… faltered, my Father sent two of my siblings to take charge of Hell. They announced, unilaterally, that there would be no more torture. All the occupants would have to start bettering themselves."

"But that's good!" No more torture sounded good to Chloe. She got the impression Lucifer had been heading in that direction himself. If someone else had already had the same idea and was putting it into place then that meant Lucifer wouldn't have to do it. But Linda was frowning and shaking her head. "Right?"

Lucifer's shook his head. "All of Hell rose against them, demons and human souls alike." He snapped his fingers. "My siblings were deposed in an instant. That's what caused the vacuum at the top. The assembled hordes of Hell only had _one_ goal in common." He sank further into the cushions. "People preferred the torture over forced self-improvement."

"That makes sense." Linda apparently couldn't contain herself any longer. "You can't impose a change like that. Your patient has to want it for themselves." She sat up. "And you, of all people, should know that even then, it's not so easy."

"Yes, Doctor, I am well aware." Lucifer sat up straight. "_Now_, if not before. I have to take a more indirect approach." He leaned forward. "But subtlety takes time. And I'd promised the Detective I'd come back." Now he turned to Chloe. "Here I am." He smiled — or tried to — and put his other hand over hers. "But I can't stay."

"Why do this?" It was the one question that remained in Chloe's mind. Lucifer would be committing himself to exactly the kind of life he'd claimed he wanted to escape. _Against_ his stated wish that he wanted to stay with her.

And very much against what _she_ wanted, damn it.

Lucifer looked away. "Because if I let those people torture themselves — if I let that continue while I know they have a way out — then I _would_ be the monster you refuse to see." He let go of her hand. "That is unacceptable."

Linda had retreated into the depths of the comfortable chair. She was once again keeping silent, but Chloe could feel Linda's eyes on her, waiting for her response. Maze, of course, looked on with apparent disinterest. But she wasn't saying anything, either.

What had Linda been saying, just before Lucifer dropped in? You couldn't control everything. Only how you responded to it. This was Lucifer controlling his response — a response to his own past mistakes. She couldn't blame him for that. But she didn't have to like it, either.

Lucifer moved, putting distance between them on the couch. "I'm sorry, Detective. This is not what I envisioned when I left the hangar." He started to get up. "If you wish for me to leave now, I will."

Chloe extended her hand. "No, Lucifer." Him leaving was the _last_ thing she wanted. That was kind of the point. "You don't _have_ to leave right now, do you?" If he had to leave, then the next question became one of time. How long did they have, and how could they make the most of it?

Lucifer shook his head. "I put someone in charge when I came back. She'll keep the demons busy. I can stay for a time. If you want me to." Then he held up a hand. "But I can't stay indefinitely. She'll take power for herself, and I'll be back where I started."

"Who?" That was Maze. She sounded suspicious. "There's nobody that trustworthy down there."

Lucifer was visibly regaining his confidence. No hesitant words now. "There's one I trust to keep her word — for a price. And it's a price I'm willing to pay."

Maze knew who he was talking about. "No. No way. I'm still not coming with you." She got out of her chair and into Lucifer's face, despite the height difference. "_I_ refuse to pay that price."

Lucifer looked at her as if he didn't comprehend her. But he did know what Maze was talking about, from his response. "I wouldn't do that, Maze." He smiled at her. "But yes, your dear mother is the one I left in charge."

"Dear mother" was said in about the same tone Lucifer usually reserved for his "Father." Not so dear, then. That was borne out by Maze's expression of disgust when Lucifer referenced her. "She cast me out," Maze said. "She doesn't get to have me back."

"Nor will she, Maze." Lucifer held up his hands to placate the demon. "But I trapped one of your cousins on Earth last year. Lilith wants _her_ back." He tilted his head. "And after a year as a human in a maximum-security prison, she might be more amenable to this arrangement."

He turned back to Chloe with another deep breath. "So that's as long as I can stay. Until I can get Tyrazameen out of prison. If you want me to." He held out a hand. "What do you say, Detective?"

Linda had approached Maze and engaged her in a whispered conversation. Neither of them were paying much attention to Chloe or Lucifer. This was up to her.

She took Lucifer's hand. "I say we make the most of it."

* * *

**Intermezzo**

It takes me a few weeks to pick up the phone. When I do, the conversation – almost goes well. I arrange to meet my mother for coffee. That looks like progress, to me.

But when we meet, face-to-face, she comments on my clothes – it's not like I can afford much - and everything devolves into an argument about my job and my lifestyle from there. Once again. It hurts to leave. But it would have hurt more to stay.

Instead, I focus on the new job. As a temp, I get all the hellishly shit tasks. I spend at least three weeks mainly fetching coffees and copying papers. It's still better than Walmart.

Eventually, I manage to apply to an internal vacancy for a permanent job. It's still hard work, long hours and I can't afford more than a crappy apartment halfway across LA where the elevator breaks every other week, but it's stable. And getting better.

Two years after the last meeting with my mother, I pick up the phone again. The number is still there. I tried deleting it – it came back.

Someone picks up. "Mom? It's me." All I get is silence.

"I want to get along, Mom. But I won't let you dictate my life. So let's do this: we meet, we have a coffee, and we don't talk about my job, my clothes or my apartment. And then we'll take it from there. Can we do that?"

Another few beats of nothing. Then: "I'll try, dear."


	14. Epilogue

Lucifer spent much of the next few days on the phone, calling in favors and making various arrangements Chloe didn't want to inquire too much into. She had rarely seen such commitment and dedication in Lucifer, trying to put his affairs in order.

And that was the thing, wasn't it? In a lot of ways, once Lucifer left, that would be it. Even if he would be able to come back – and that was a doubtful condition — he would never be able to stay as long as he had again. So yes, his affairs _had_ to be put in order.

But at some point, Lucifer put the phone down and announced that he had a final date. Then he turned all that commitment and dedication he'd displayed in arranging his affairs to enjoying what time he had left. Together with her.

Six weeks. That was as long as they had. Lucifer made it feel like a lifetime.

* * *

**Intermezzo Epilogue**

Ikea is Hell.

Compared to what I've been through before this, however, it's a playground. We've taken the long way through the store, having stopped in the restaurant halfway to have a leisurely lunch. And yes, the long way through included all the kid's bedroom displays –despite it being highly unlikely I'll ever have children. Mom enjoys the speculation. I let her have that one. She's pretty good about letting that go, otherwise. We've come far enough together by now.

It seems like we've been in this store forever. But we're finally approaching the accessories and lighting area. Beyond that, there's only the registers and the exit.

"Doesn't he look handsome?" my mother asks. She points at a man standing in front of the lighting display. "That suit looks expensive, too."

I reply without looking. "I keep telling you, mom, _he_ is not my type." Then I _do_ look.

It's the stranger again. The one who pushed me to the place where I could fight with my mother again, the one who gave me her phone number. I hadn't seen him in years and years. But I'd never seen him twice in one loop – I still hadn't gone back around to running out on the fight with my mother at seventeen.

He's dressed differently, this time. "But I think I know him, anyway. I'll go say hi."

"You do that, honey. You never know what might come of it."

The stranger turns as I approach. His suit – jacket included - is completely immaculate, solid black. And not a hair is out of place. He raises an eyebrow as I approach. "Miss Morgenstern. You've been doing some redecorating, I see."

I look back toward my mother, guarding our cart. "Just getting started, really."

The stranger's mouth twitches as he follows my gesture. "You two seem to be getting along."

I shrug. "It took a while, but now it works, mostly. And because I lost my apartment and my mother can use the help with the mortgage, I'm moving back in. So we'll see how that goes." That's _why_ we're here, after all.

I get a nod at that. "I thought you might be ready to move on," the stranger says. "Really, I thought you'd be long gone by now."

Right. The way out of the endless repeating cycle of fights, running away and working my way up only to find my mother died without ever talking to her again. Well – that last part is not going to happen this time. And as for the rest…. "I'm in no rush."

The stranger smiles. "If that's what you want, of course." He shakes my hand. "Enjoy your trip." He turns away and starts to walk, back into the store.

"Hey," I call after him. He stops and turns. "Thank you."

Another smile. "My pleasure."


End file.
